


A Surprise at Home

by Findecutie, MayGlenn



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findecutie/pseuds/Findecutie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one else was going to be around, and they'd dared him. Dared him and then bribed him. Aredhel needed to try a few fashion ideas on someone with her hair, looks, and a similar size, or so she and Celegorm had claimed. Which was why Maedhros, when he walked in, at first glance had almost called his husband by his sister's name. It was why Fingon was found standing carefully in heels and yards upon yards of silken fabrics with his hair carefully pinned up, dozens of small gems glimmering in his hair, and his face painted as if he were a Noldor lady about to attend a ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired a piece of Opalus' artwork on deviantart. It wasn’t drawn as Silmarillion art, but from our first glances we could see Maedhros and Fingon. 
> 
> http:// anndr . deviantart . com/ art/ Opalus-335221301

Fingon looked up as his husband entered the room. They had _dared_ him, and no one else was going to be around. His husband was working on some project or other with his mother in law, and Aredhel had offered him another set of transparent robes, this one with slight hints of red in the material. Now he was changed into a set of what she claimed were her clothes, though as his siblings fastened him into the garments he noted that they fit him perfectly and certainly were not designed for her. His hair was plaited elegantly and dangling in a loose waterfall of curls behind him, falling on fabric so smooth it felt slick to the touch. Long, dark blue robes covered a pale, strapless garment and his arms were covered in silver bracelets sporting blue and white stones. Darker blue stones dangled from his ears and lay upon his breast. Looking in the mirror he barely recognized himself. She had painted his lips a dark red and Fingon bit into his lower lip, considering his image. He was in high blue-black heeled shoes which laced up his calves and they had done _something_ to his face-- he couldn't tell exactly what-- which made his eyes look large and bright. The way his hair fell left his features looking both softer and more slender. And now they had scampered off to go for a swim, giggling madly. He had sighed, shook his head at himself, and left the room, wandering toward the kitchen for a snack and perhaps a bit of fresh air before he began the arduous process of transforming back into a more familiar image.

"Irissë, have you seen my--" Maedhros asked as he came in, returned from his journey, and then did a double-take, and then a triple-take. "Findekáno?! What are you--what in Eru's name--did Tyelko put you up to--you look--you--" His voice began pitched too high, and awkward, and, oh, but Fingon did look beautiful. He gulped. "Um. You look. Fin," he sighed, stepping close. "Did Tyelko _see_ you like this?"

Fingon felt a wave of _something_ from Maedhros, strong and wild, and spots of color appeared high on his cheeks. "I-I didn't... Why are you here?" His voice rose in pitch and he coughed, taking a step back, hand flying out as he half stumbled in his heels. He had no idea how Anairë and Indis managed to walk, let alone run, in such things. "Of course he did! I mean he and Irissë... they promised... they were going to... how else do you think I wound up like this?! Who do you think did this to my face?" He rolled his eyes at the memory of their determined faces, pallet of colors, and endless 'final touches' and walked closer to his husband-- focus carefully and it was possible to almost glide in the shoes. He thought he understood part of the reason why some Eldar chose to wear such things as the fabric, alternately clinging to him and drifting behind him, seemed to flow about his body. "What's wrong?"

Maedhros licked his lips weakly, but once Fingon was in range, he grabbed his arms, squeezing tightly. "I don't want anyone seeing you like this but me," he growled, and lifted his husband and tossed him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing, stalking to the bedroom.

“Russ!” Fingon let out a shriek as he was abducted. He closed his eyes as he landed on Maedhros’ shoulder. His husband’s mind felt primal, desperate, urgent and more than a little wild. He had a feeling he would be mussing the terrible twosome’s work sooner than intended, and he found himself rather hoping that the garments, shoes and jewelry survived to be worn another day. His head fell limply against Maedhros’ back and in a matter of seconds he was rock hard, arousal pressed against his husband’s torso as he was carried down the hall.

"Mm, you know that quite ruins the effect," he purred, rubbing Fin's backside, and, as an afterthought, giving it a smack. "You don't feel much like a girl when you do that." He righted Fin suddenly, standing him up to get a good look at him, memorizing the sight. "You look--beautiful." He surged forward suddenly, and kissed Fin roughly, hating and loving the taste and the smear of cosmetics. "I don't want anyone to see you like this but me," he panted, when they parted.

“Unless you can apply paints well I’m afraid you’ll have to let them see me. I can’t actually do this, arimeldanya. It’s rather beyond me.” Fingon gestured to himself before reaching out to cup Maedhros’ face in his palm. “Valar, I’ve missed you! I would swear you carry the light of the Trees with you, wearing a raiment of it the way you light up a room with your presence alone!” He shook his head and leaned forward to kiss Maedhros, enjoying the lessened height different as he stood inches above his usual height. He leaned forward carefully, lips brushing against the curve of his husband’s ear. “But you’re the only one who gets to undress me like this. You’re the only one who may take me like this. Would you like that? I could spend hours preparing myself for you while you’re out, getting dressed up with special heels and special clothing and paints and jewels just so that you could lift the hem of my dress and press inside me without having to remove so much as a scrap of clothing.”

"Uhh," Maedhros said, entirely undone by this description, and he pressed his body against Fingon's, grinding against him. "Oh, Valar, Fin," he swore, hardly able to breathe. "Yes, just like this. Just as you are now. I want--I want to spank you for letting anyone see you like this, though. But--but you're so beautiful," he whispered, tracing his face with fingertips, and crushed him in a hug. "Oh, I missed you, Fin."

Fingon swallowed, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I missed you too,” he whispered, squeezing Maedhros’ back as tightly as he could. “The world is dark without you. The birds song seems less happy and the sky more gray. Oh, I never want to let you go again venno!” It was a silly dream, one which could never be, yet Fingon clung to Maedhros imagining for a moment that they might stay just as they were for the next age. He snorted. “Hours of getting dressed elegantly enough for grandfather’s finest ball and all you want to do is spank me? I should go swat at our siblings for such misplaced efforts if that’s the first thing on your mind when you see me!”

Maedhros smiled out of one side of his mouth, sitting on the bed and pulling Fin onto his lap. He rested his hand between Fin's legs and ghosted his hands over his bare skin and the clinging, sheer blue cloth. Findekáno was beautiful, and Maedhros was already very aroused. "You look-- And your hair. I want to worship you and ravage you," he breathed. "Did you prepare at all for--you didn't, you didn't know I was coming. Want to--oh, Fin, Fin," he said, kissing his neck, sucking a dark bruise there.

“Yours,” Fingon whispered brokenly, hand fluttering next to Russ and tracing patterns just above his skin. My hröa and fëa welcome you. Always. Please, Russ. Touch me? Have me? He wasn’t sure what he wanted-- to sit astride Maedhros and ride him or lie on his back with his husband carefully opening his robes and lifting them hem of his gown. Secretly he desperately wanted Russ to walk him over to the full length mirror and take him from behind as they stood in front of it. He moaned brokenly at the vision and wrapped a fist in Maedhros’ hair.

"I--yes," Maitimo said, reading the vision and "yes, in--ahh--I want you to--go put a chair in front of the long mirror. I want to watch you," he decided suddenly, swatting Fin's backside. "And bring the oil!"

"Yes! Anything." Fingon shivered, skin tingling from the swat as he carefully made his way across the room, arousal and heels working together to try to trip him. He dragged a chair over and paused, one hand reaching up to touch his lips as he stared at himself in the glass. His face was mussed and a few bits of hair were escaping. His cheeks burned bright against the paleness of the surrounding skin and his lips were still a dark, wet red. He met his husband's gaze in the mirror. Love this. Love you. Love you so much-- I'm so glad you're home! "Will you dance with me first?" He asked the question abruptly, surprising even himself. "I'd like to do something with you, create some memory in addition to... what we are going to do." He swallowed roughly. "Which will itself be a perfect and wonderful memory."

I just want to eat you up, Maedhros whispered across their bond. He wrapped his arms around Fin from behind, and kissed his neck. His hair was bundled up on top of his head the way Aredhel did her hair, but he was trying not to think about that. "But yes, we shall dance." He walked around Fingon, fingers lingering, and kissed him as he led them in a dance.

Fingon smiled, docile in his husband's arms. Yours, he whispered across their bond. I missed you and I love you and I'm yours. His eyes were drawn to the way Maedhros seemed to be pulled toward him in every way. His husband's eyes lingered, his fingers couldn't stop brushing against bared skin, and his hröa repeatedly curled closer. Fingon smiled as Maedhros traced the gown's deeply plunging back. "You make me feel so very beautiful and precious. Delicate, like I'm your doll today."

"You are beautiful, and precious, and my only treasure," Maedhros said, taking Fingon's hand from his shoulder and kissing the palm of it. "My darling, darling Findekáno." He waltzed them around the room, loving when Fin stumbled as it meant he pressed closer against him, and soon they were chest to chest, and groin to groin, and stumbled and rubbed against one another more than they were dancing. "Ah--you--" he panted, kissing him sloppily. "You are--mmf--"

"Yours," Fingon finished with a moan. "And you are mine. My wonderful, lovely, perfect husband." He clung to Maedhros' neck, unsure of his footing and dizzy with lust. "I want you to have me, vennonya. Please." He gazed at Maedhros with bright eyes and leaned forward for another kiss, painting his husband's lips red with smeared color.

"Ahh, Fin," Maedhros groaned, pulling Fingon flush against him as they kissed. He reached between Fingon's legs, fingers scrambling beneath the hem of the gown, to see what he could touch while removing the least amount of cloth. Finding clear access to his backside at least, Maedhros steered them to the bedroom. "Go. Let me see you walk before me," he said, righting his skirts.

"Fix my hair first," Findekáno insisted with a teasing grin. "I don't want you staring at it when it's all mussed. Then I'll walk for you."

Maedhros laughed, crowding Fingon against a wall. "Back-sassing me, are you, now, my pretty?" he grinned and pinched his bottom before deigning to adjust the curls (curls! they had actually curled Fingon's hair!) and hairpins. "There," he said, "but you were already beautiful in my eyes."

"Then I want to be _more_ beautiful for you," Fingon answered. He smiled softly, surrounded by a cloud of Maedhros’ pleasure, and reached up, gloved fingers delicately tracing his husband’s jaw. "I love you very much. And I wish to present you an image so beautiful, so... enticing... that I steal your breath away. I want you to be warm and tingling and entirely happy as you recall that I'm already yours and that you are mine." He brushed the final curl away from his face. "Better? Do I look like a prince of mist and starlight? That's what our crazy kin were calling me. Though I think they may have been teasing." He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to Maedhros' lips. I feel so tall like this-- I can almost look you in the eyes without having to look up!

"You are--you steal my--I cannot even--" Maedhros coughed, blinking his blurry eyes, and stepped back. "To the bedroom," he said abruptly. "Go."

Fingon nodded, taking a last long look at Maedhros. "As my prince commands," he said quietly, voice throaty and soft. Back perfectly straight he turned and walked past Maedhros without stopping, returning to the bedroom and the mirror and the chair. He lazily adjusted the hem of his gown and removed the outer robe, laying it on the foot of the bed, watching the door of the bedroom through the mirror. He walked up to the chair, leaning against the back and smiling.

Maedhros made a noise at the door. "Oh, no, don't, leave it on," he said, but then Fingon was already so beautiful, he laid his hand on the garment. "No, it's fine. You look--" Fingon was in sheer fabric, and _leggings_ underneath, and-- "is that a corset?" He ran his fingers up the boning. "Leave _that_ on." He kissed Fin, and retreated to adjust the mirror, setting it up behind him and angling it down. "I want you to see how beautiful you look, how I see you," he said, clambering on top of him, planting his knees on either side of his hips.

"Russ?" Fingon gasped at the unexpected movement, legs falling open wider and pressing his husband's thighs apart. He sighed, staring up at Maedhros. "My light, how you _glow_."

"I glow?" Maedhros huffed, kissing Fingon breathless. "You--you--what you're seeing is yourself reflected in my eyes. I love you. Want to touch you, my soft doll." He slipped his fingers between Fin's legs and pressed at his entrance. "My Findekáno, did you shave your legs?"

“No.” Fingon blushed heavily and looked away. “Eldar have very little hair, but cutting it up only causes rough ends and makes things icky,” he explained in his sister’s voice. “And unpleasant,” he added, tone deepening to mimic Celegorm. “They… ah… it won’t be back soon. Everything’s been plucked out.” He coughed. “Anyway. How was your day? Is your project going well?”

"I--I know--Fin," Maedhros growled, hitching one leg up over his shoulder and pressing an oiled finger beneath undergarments and against his entrance. "Fin, you--I want to see you half as crazy as you're making me," he growled, biting his neck.

“But this is for _you_ ,” Fingon whispered breathlessly. He trembled, legs shifting as he rocked up against his husband’s finger. “Do you really want to make me as mad with desire as you are right now? Even more so?”

"Yes. Yes," Maedhros breathed, rubbing at his entrance and rocking against his sex, still trapped by too-tight sheer lacey-- "Oh Valar, Fin, you look so--delicious. So--I want you so much, want you--want you to stay just like this. My pretty nis Fin."

“As long as you want. I promise. Oh-- but I want you as well!” Fingon leaned up, begging for a kiss and smiling against Maedhros’ lips as it was granted. “Definitely doing this again. I want you to look at me like this often.” Will you do something for me someday, some that that would make me… wordless with desire for you?

"You--want--? Fin, anything," Maedhros huffed, pressing his finger inside, all the way to the spot that drove his husband wild. It felt inflamed, like Fingon had been too long without him, and Maedhros ached to even think of their separation (that was only a few days because he couldn't help himself and came home early). "Anything." He pulled back slightly. "Will you turn over for me, darling? Want to see your lovely little rump up in the air all dolled up like this."

“A-ah! Russ!” Moaning, Fingon circled his hips, trying to get more pressure from his husband’s finger. “More. More please. Need you!” He turned, raising his rear and pillowing his head in his arms. “Please, Russandol!” Mmm. Love this. Need you. You feel so perfect over me. You’ll feel wonderful filling me-- it’ll be like coming home. Let me welcome you home, arimelda.

"Mm, and that's what I plan to do. While I get you ready, why don't you tell me what it is you would like me to do for you--some other time? What would make you wordless with desire--if this isn't already doing the trick?" Maedhros added another finger.

“It is! Love it when you have me like this. Like being your princess, Russ.” Fingon sighed, fingers gripping the edge of a pillow. “Will you…” he hesitated and glanced back, moaning as Maedhros scissored the fingers inside him. “Will you do this for me one day? Will I come home and find you… dressed all in red and gold… corseted and laced up in heels and paints with red lips and dark eyes and jewels woven into your hair? Will you bend yourself over our desk in the library and let me lift the back of your dress and take you just like that?” You might even prepare before so that I don’t even have to-- oh! Pleasemoreyesss! “Russ!”

"Ahh--wait--almost--wait," he breathed against the stimulation, dangerously close to finishing early. "You want it tighter?" he asked, and slipped his hand around Fin's throat and squeezed gently. "Better?" He added another finger, pumping in and out now. You're so tight, Fin!

I waited for you! I wanted to… I almost… but I waited, Russ. I was good, my prince. Please-- need you now. I feel so _empty_. So lonely. I ache for you. Please come home. Fingon rocked slowly, whining and whimpering as Maedhros held his throat and continued stretching him. Pleeeease.

Maedhros groaned, pulling his fingers out and guiding himself in, deep in one hard thrust, squeezing off Fingon's cry. "Yes, yes, that's my good princess. My beautiful nis," he growled hot in his ear, turning his head enough to kiss him.

Fingon let out small, plaintive sounds as Maedhros directed his movements. More, he thought desperately though he could do nothing more than mouth the word. Venno! He glanced up and caught sight of them in the mirror, tightening unconsciously around Russ and taking a strangled, painful breath of surprise. “Russ!” His clothing was falling about him, the corset still tight and confining. His hair was pinned up and small jewels sparked throughout it and Maedhros rested over him as though he owned him, using his body roughly.

Mine, Maedhros growled, too eager to speak, using Fingon desperately: his love was the one on his knees beneath him, but Maedhros was truly the one in thrall. He needed Fingon more than he needed air. I love you. I love you, he said, pushing him just to the edge, just as far as he knew he could go. "I'm going to finish. If you join me, you'll soil your fancy gown." Maedhros wasn't sure whether he wanted Fingon on edge more than he wanted to see him spent and soiled, and grinned at both possibilities. "I'm not going to touch you. Want you to come in your frilly panties or not at all." He set up a punishing rhythm which quickly grew erratic.

“Nnnnngh!” Can’t-- I… _please_ Russ! I don’t want to ruin my gown. Irissë and Turko will see-- they’ll know! He shivered, gripping the pillow in a white knuckled grip as he shifted with Maedhros’ movements.

With a groan and a cry, Maedhros spent, falling weakly over the top of Fingon, leaning on his back for a few great gulping breaths, until he felt himself slacken. Pulling out, he drew back, still panting, arranged Fingon onto his back again, rubbing him in his panties, skirts pulled up to his waist. "So beautiful, so needy like this," he purred, smiling.

Fingon smiled, even as desperate as he now was he was pleased with Maedhros’ pleasure and with the love and contentment flowing across their bond. “C-can I, now? May I?” Fingon whimpered and squirmed under his husband’s hand. Pleasepleasepease. He blinked up at Maedhros, unable to focus enough energy to move away or finish himself. “Order me,” he whispered. “Tell me when.”

Maedhros' eyes widened in surprised delight, and his grin turned slightly predatory. "Oh? Oh, then I think I want you to wait a little bit," he said, his hand slowing, though the pressure increased. "Want you to tell me how much you missed me. What you did. What you thought about doing. Why you're dressed like this. And then, if you please me, I'll let you soil your lacey undergarments. And then I may make you walk around like that. Or I may lick you clean, if you are very good, or if I can't help myself."

“Russ!” Fingon squeaked out the name, shuddering and trying to control himself. “I-I…” he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to speak before swallowing roughly. “Always miss you. More than light, beloved. I ached for you. _Burned_ for you. I wanted to use one of our toys. Or to wear the plug around, imagining it would help a little… keep me from feeling so empty… but I knew it wouldn’t. Nothing makes up for missing you.” He blinked up at Maedhros, the corners of his eyes wet.

“I… our terrible twosome came over. Maybe they knew you were coming? They offered to get me more not-really-there garments, but in your colors, in a hazy almost there red to honor my lord husband if I would let Irissë practice her painting and new hair style on me. And of course they decided that meant I needed the whole getup, and they argued it was only fair since I wouldn’t have to go out and try to determine where to buy such garments and then purchase them. ‘Rissë can still pass it off as a prank gift. And…” He broke off and gasped, back arching as he pressed against Maedhros’ hand. “That was everything, wasn’t it?” He begged, body arching towards Maedhros and hands trailing up and down his back. “Pleeease Russ! Wasn’t I good for you? Please. Please let me finish. I-- I promise I’ll be this cruel to you when you’re being my princess. Even crueler if you wish. But please let me spend!” His hips shifted, rubbing himself in circles against his husband. “Please?”

Maedhros' eyes were glittering now, and he licked his lips, mouth going dry with lust. "Yes, yes you must promise to be so with me. But I prefer to be gentle with you--because you are my my love, my light, my prince and my princess, and the ruler of my heart." He settled over Fingon warmly, cradling and protecting him. "Want to spoil you, make you dizzy with pleasure. You are mine, and I like you pretty, and I like you dirty. Will you get dirty for me? You can already feel my seed leaking out of you, can't you? Well, you're already messy--a little more won't hurt." He rubbed Fin through the sheer tight panties, quick and sharp movements. "Come for me, darling, now!"

Fingon let out a strangled sob, yanking Maedhros the last few inches down to press their lips together. His eyes slipped shut as he gave in to his body’s overwhelming need and spent and spent, feeling like he might never stop. “Russ,” he whispered hoarsely, panting as his husband worked him through his completion. “Oh my perfect, darling Russ.” Love you. Need you. Too much, not enough, more, Russandol, beloved, please! He shuddered, breath and heart slowing as he blinked up at Meadhros. “I love you.” He smiled tiredly. “And I missed you. I’m very glad that you’re home, my prince.”

Maedhros smiled, kissing him tenderly. "I am glad to be home. I couldn't stay away. And you were so very good for me," he whispered, still rubbing the soaked panties. "Here--will you let me get that for you?" He crouched then, folding himself up and pulling the garment down so he could lick the sticky mess from off Fingon's sated sex--not all of it, but just enough that it wasn't dripping, but was still sticky and sloppy and wet and you could _smell_ it on him. "I want you to keep wearing this--if you would? We need to get our siblings out of here so I can have you entirely to myself." Here he chuckled, and wiped his own mouth. "Though I wouldn't mind if they saw you looking a bit mussed before they went."

Maedhros smiled, kissing him tenderly. "I am glad to be home. I couldn't stay away. And you were so very good for me," he whispered, still rubbing the soaked panties. "Here--will you let me get that for you?" He crouched then, folding himself up and pulling the garment down so he could lick the sticky mess from off Fingon's sated sex--not all of it, but just enough that it wasn't dripping, but was still sticky and sloppy and wet and you could _smell_ it on him. "I want you to keep wearing this--if you would? We need to get our siblings out of here so I can have you entirely to myself." Here he chuckled, and wiped his own mouth. "Though I wouldn't mind if they saw you looking a bit mussed before they went."

A huff of laughter escaped as Fingon stared at his husband. "Not an hour ago you couldn't stand the thought of anyone seeing me dressed as your princess Finno. Now you want them to see me used and spent?" He shook his head, smiling, and leaned up to claim another kiss. "I would do anything for you," he whispered quietly. Mmm. And I like the idea of an evening to ourselves. I can't believe you're home early! Thank you, thank you, thank you! It's the best gift you could have given me!

I couldn't be away, Maedhros replied, kissing Fingon and grinning. "Oh I still don't want them staying long. And besides. They should know how much I appreciate their hard work. Here, let's get you presentable again." He pulled the long robe over Fingon's shoulders, and checked himself in the mirror to see how much cosmetics were in his face now.

Fingon smiled and attempted to reorder his hair in the mirror. "At least help me fix this," he requested, gesturing at the falling strands. "You don't want to make my sister to cry after she's given you such a lovely gift. And then yes, let's go see them and see them off." He offered up a crooked smile, their gazes meeting in the mirror.

Maedhros stepped up behind him and kissed his neck, looking at his beautiful love in the mirror. "I'll fix it," he said, braiding a small strand of long hair and winding it around his head, like a crown, and pinning it in place. He repeated this with all the loose strands, and kissed him again. "There. We'll be hard-pressed to hide that bruise though," he chuckled, licking the spot behind Fingon's ear.

"Let them see it. I can still be presentable and look very much like I'm yours." Fingon shivered at the touch of Maedhros' tongue and craned his head, pulling his husband into a slow, languid kiss. Oh I love this. Having you beside me, behind me, your arms around me. Will you tell me more about your work this evening? We could have dinner on the balcony and just... relax and enjoy one another's company as we catch up on each other's weeks.

Yes, oh, yes, Maedhros said, turning Fin around in his arms and kissing him. I missed cooking for you. My week was cold and uneventful without you, but you shall hear of it. "Now," he said, when they finally parted, and he checked himself in the mirror for red smears of cosmetics, wiping at his chin, "shall we go kick our siblings out?"

"As much as I love them-- and they really have been, for the most part, excellent and entertaining company while you've been away... Yes. I should like an evening alone with my husband." Fingon smiled. "I think they'll understand. Though... Do you think we could offer to host a family party in a few weeks? It would be a nice sort of thank you to them, and it would be fun to have everyone over."

"A dinner party?" Maedhros repeated, taking Fingon's arm and guiding him down to the pool. "Yes, it is long past time for that. We shall have it, soon--a week, or a fortnight, no more." He kissed Fingon's brow.

"Nelyo!" came Celegorm's shout as they descended the steps. "You're not supposed to be back yet!"

"You mean you didn't set this up knowing my husband was on his way?" Fingon gestured to his costume, not sounding as if he believed a word his brother said. "He called me Irissë! How would you feel if my sister started calling you Nelyo?" He stood close to Maedhros, shoulders brushing as he spoke. Every few seconds his put upon expression dissolved into a brief smile before managed to school his features again.

"If it was a gift, I enjoyed it," Maedhros said, hardly bothering to hide his grin. "And I would rather appreciate it if you could vacate my home so I can enjoy it properly."

Celegorm's face blanched in surprise, and he blinked, looking to Aredhel. "D-did I just hear that correctly?"

Aredhel also seemed surprised that Maedhros wasn't as shy as he was known to be. "Did you--oh!" she cried, clambering out of the pool and dressing in her robe, eyes downcast, as if trying to avoid looking at either of them. "Sorry, we'll go, she stammered.

"We'd like to have the family over for soon, for a party. So... if you'd like, you'll see us again in a week or two." Fingon smiled at them, though he was was flushing brightly from Maedhros' statement and their siblings' reaction to it. "Sorry. I'm just... excited to have Russ home, so I probably wouldn't be a very attentive host if you stayed right now. But I'll see you soon?"

"Of course!" Aredhel jumped forward, wet hair sending drops of water flying as she embraced Fingon. "Love you, Findekáno," she sang. "Have fun!"

"Oh, they will," Celegorm said with a grin, ushering her out.

Maedhros rolled his eyes, stepping aside as the pair scurried upstairs. "So, my love," Maedhros said, turning to Fingon. "What would you like for dinner?"

Fingon eyed his cousin, eyes sliding from his head to his feet and back up. He grinned wickedly. “You?”

Maedhros snorted, pulling Fingon into a hug. "That could be arranged, but I'd need more time to prepare. For tonight, you can have me for dessert if you're good: but what would you like for dinner?"

"Do you think, with the added height the heels give me, I could just step up behind you in the kitchen-- if you were wearing your apron; just your apron-- and press inside you? I bet I could. You wouldn't even have to spread your legs much or bend your knees." He smiled at Maedhros, pressing their matching grins into a brief kiss. "For dinner... I think we have meat if you'd like to a tenderloin. Or we could always do soup and there are plenty of greens for a salad." He shrugged. "All of your cooking is good. We should have fondue for dessert. I'd like to cover you in trails of chocolate and lick you clean."

"Ahh--" Maedhros coughed, suddenly shy, and laughed, turning red to his ears. "Here you stole my idea," he said, leaning down (but not so far down) to bite Fingon's nose. "That sounds...perfect. do they not hurt your feet? You look so very lovely in them. I want--mm, yes," he purred, kissing Fingon sweetly. "Shall we go inside?" He led Fingon upstairs where he began to prepare two thin fillet steaks in a mushroom wine sauce, potatoes, and a salad.

"They're... they're different. But I'm enjoying being closer to your height for a while!" Fingon shifted to stand on one foot, stretching his ankle. "I wouldn't want to wear them all the time. Well, I wouldn't want to anyway-- I'm enjoying this, but I also like looking up at you and leaning up to kiss you, my tall and handsome prince. Perhaps I could sit on the counter for a while, though, while you start to prepare dinner? I can help with sorting or washing or slicing... whatever you need?"

"Mm, as long as I can watch you, you can just sit there as far as I'm concerned." Maedhros huffed and kissed him before he seasoned and seared the streaks.

"Whatever will please my lord husband. Will you lift me up?" Fingon closed his eyes, enjoying the smell of dinner cooking. And later... soon... I need to be with you again. I'm all sticky and I'm starting to get... itchy. Do you want to bathe with me later? I'll put rose petals in the water and wear my body jewelry for you. We can wash each other's hair and... talk and float around. I'm sure you could use a massage and a hot bath after days of working in the forge.

I...think I could, Maedhros grinned, watching Fingon as much as he could. Very much. "If you're itching," he asked after dinner was mostly prepared, and he was just frying up potatoes, "you could take off your clothes."

Fingon swallowed. "All of them? Or just my... um... panties?" He swallowed again as a sizzle of desire raced across their bond, one hand sliding to the edge of his hem and drawing the fabric higher.

"All of them. Well, you'll need to leave the shoes on. Remember what you said? That you would--while I cooked?"

"Oh! I... yes. I'd like that very much." Fingon squirmed and changed his mind, slipping out of his outer robes and walking over to Maedhros still wearing the gown. "Will you help me get the back, please?"

Maedhros wiped his hands on a cloth before obliging, deftly undoing the row of hooks where the corset joined. He rubbed his fingertips over the pink marks, wincing. "Does it hurt?" He kissed his shoulder as the gown fell to the floor, leaving him in nothing but the sheer panties and high heeled shoes.

Fingon shook his head. "I can feel your desire, which is wonderful. It was tight and kept me from breathing too deeply, but it wasn't that uncomfortable. And I'd say it's well worth it if this is the reaction I get." He leaned forward, kissing Maedhros and pressing his mostly nude body against his husband's clothed form. "Valar I want you, vennonya. Want to be buried in your heat-- I've missed that. I want to wrap myself around you kiss your neck while you work on dinner."

"I--" Maedhros gasped breathlessly. "But how can I turn away from you?" he whimpered.

"You can and you will because you promised me dinner, my beloved." Fingon reached up to trace his husband's cheek. "But first, I think we need to get you into your apron-- I can hardly take you if you're working in trousers! I'll keep an eye on the steaks for a minute. Go and grab your little apron and come back wearing it. Then you can cook for us and I can find release within you."

Maedhros blushed bright red, scampering away and returning as quickly as he could, having removed his clothes and donned his robe. "Do I please you?" he asked, striking a pose.

Fingon inspected him carefully. "Turn, please." He giggled as Maedhros immediately followed the direction. "Very nice, vennonya. Now, would you like to take over cooking so that I can stretch you open and have you?" He had already pulled out a bottle of olive oil and set it on the counter. "I'm ready for you. Can't you see how much you please me?" The panties were failing to hide anything, and standing in the heels-- almost on his toes-- he felt very much on display.

"You, ah--you look--" Maedhros stammered, reaching out to him, and then dropping his hands. "Sorry, I'll--" he went to the stove, stirring the potatoes and flipping the steaks.

Good boy. Fingon moved to open the oil, wetting his fingers and stepping up behind Maedhros. “You are /achingly/ beautiful, daring. Almost too perfect to touch.” He tucked his chin over Maedhros’ shoulder and slid his fingers over Maedhros’ rear, circling his entrance before slipping one inside.

"You--uhn?--feels gooood," he groaned, widening his stance. "Not as beautiful as you, though," he ground out, trying to focus as Fingon tormented him. "You took my breath away, and--as you always do." He threw his head back with a whine. "Puh-please," he begged, hips arching back.

"When you beg so prettily, how could I possibly refuse?" Fingon grinned, kissing Maedhros' shoulder and adding another finger. "Tell me, did you like how Irissë did my hair? Did you notice that picked out red jewels for it? I'm rather enjoying having it up for a change." Each time she added one I thought of you. I loved the idea of being adorned in your colors, wandering around wearing them like badges of honor or like bits of you to keep with me always."

Maedhros groaned, dropping the spoon where it clattered onto the stove, and he had to pick it gingerly up. "Yes, yes, I--uhnnn--" He swallowed hard, trying to keep himself under control where his arousal tented the apron he wore. "You look like your mine," he gasped. He liked that.

"Yours," Fingon moaned. "For all time. And you are mine, my Russandol." He reached around with his free hand to palm his husband's desire. "Really, darling? You're meant to be cooking while I use your hröa-- so beautiful and open and mine-- to find release. But I'll take care of you. I always will." He bit at Maedhros' shoulder as he removed his fingers almost too soon and, with a brief application of more oil, pressed slowly into his husband. Ruuuussss.

Maedhros whimpered and arched forward, slamming into the edge of the stove almost painfully, going up on tiptoes and spreading his legs. He must have looked a picture: at once needing and not wanting. "Ai, Fin," he squeaked, loving the stretch. Oh I missed this. I missed you. Hurts good. "Ughnnndon't stop."

"Careful!" Fingon kept a hand protectively over his husband's arousal, pressing him forward and biting along Maedhros' neck. "Love you." Want it to feel good. Hurt good. He squeezed around Maedhros, pressing them together. "How's dinner coming? You're supposed to keep working, doll." He grinned as Maedhros lifted himself higher. "Look down for me," Fingon suggested, rubbing a heel clad foot against his husband's bare skin. "Doesn't that look nice? My heels and your calves and-- oh!-- Love doing this with you vennonya. Love having you as mine." Love knowing that I am yours.

Maedhros whined and groaned, dizzy as he tried to pick up the spoon again, and reduce the heat. "Oh, Fin," he sighed, "Fin Fin Fin, please." He rocked back, bewildered by the sight of Fingon's feet in those shoes, and his height behind him. "Love you. Love you."

"Love you most. Love you always." Fingon grinned, beginning a languid rhythm. He pulled almost entirely out on each stroke before rocking forward and burying himself with a groan. Need you. Oh _darling_ there aren't words to describe how glorious you feel, how perfect you look. Will you turn you head? Want to kiss you. And then you're supposed to keep working. The salad, remember? Or will you make creamed spinach for us?

Maedhros groaned and gasped and whimpered as Fingon continued to torment him. The kiss wasn't nearly enough, but he managed to finish the potatoes and set them aside. "Ahh--salad?" He asked, torn between wanting Fingon _out_ of him so he could move, and never wanting them to be parted again.

I can't bear to be parted either. "Come on-- over to the cold box." Fingon released his husband's arousal and moved a guiding hand to his hip, urging him to shuffled awkwardly toward the fresh vegetables and fruit with Fingon still inside him. "Oh, Russ!" He shivered, teeth clamping on Maedhros' shoulder as they began to move, Fingon stumbling behind him and leaning heavily on his husband. Little more. Come along, darling. So perfect. So exquisitely wonderful Russandol. Have I mentioned how much I love thee, today?

"You--have--oh!" Maedhros cried, the shuffling more embarrassing than arousing or painful (though it was both of those things, too). Flushed with exertion and desire, he bent to retrieve vegetables, and managed the final few steps to a countertop.. "Ai, Fin," he whined. "Feels--mm--good--but don't make me go any--" But now he realized he had forgotten a knife!

"If you have everything for a salad you won't need to go anywhere." Fingon slid his arm around Maedhros' waist, pressing his palm against his husband's stomach before slipping it lower teasingly. "Please talk to me more, dearest. I want to hear exactly how you feel right now. Tell me how much you ache and what you want. How long do we have for our fun before the steaks are ready?"

Maedhros whined. "Want--uhnnnn, want this. Feels. Good." He groaned, unable to describe the feeling, but trying. "Feel like I am yours. Need to--but don't want you to let me," he said, then shook his head. "Need to cut the carrots," he said. "But the steaks are done." With a high-pitched cry he fell forward, gripping the counter.

Fingon lay over his back, blanketing Maedhros and moaning at the warmth of his cousin's skin. "I _won't_ let you. Not until dinner's ready. And only then if you're very good." He tilted his head, lips brushing against Maedhros' ear. "Otherwise you'll have to sit on my lap during dinner and we'll eat joined like this. Is that what you want? Is that why you're teasing me so?" He leaned back, the arm around Maedhros stomach helping to tug his husband up. "Come on-- we'll take the steaks off and you can let them rest while you finish the salad." His fingers danced down, brushing a line up the fabric above Maedhros' arousal with an almost feather light touch. "Come on."

"Aiiiahh," Maedhros whimpered, but straightened under his own power, and steeling his resolve, moved to the stove, shuffling together with Fingon joined to him. He took the steaks off the heat, and remembering to grab a knife this time, returned to the salad, preparing a quick kale salad with various greens and nuts and dried cranberries. "There," he gasped. "Please? Dinner's ready, and I need--please, Fin--"

"Put your knife down and hold on to the edge of the counter," Fingon ordered. He paused until Maedhros had done so and then thrust into him roughly. "I _should_ make you wait. I should-- you would feel amazing sitting on my lap while we ate. Would you squirm for me, beloved? I can imagine it. I'd barely be able toe eat." He gasped, changing his angle slightly until he hit his husband's spot with every movement. "But I'm so generous to you, aren't I? So kind. So you're going to finish for me right now, just like this, standing in the kitchen in your apron and not even having to spread your legs much, since I'm tall enough to take you when I'm wearing heels and you're standing barefoot on the kitchen floor."

He slipped his fingers around again, groping Maedhros' roughly through the cloth of his apron and leaving a trail of kissed bruises down his neck. Love you. Need you. Oh, _Valar_ Russ-- you're so tight, so perfect, so wonderful. Need you. Need you to finish for me. Come on-- how close are you dearest? Do you need me to make you shuffle around the kitchen more, stumbling about with me inside you? Are you really going to make me wait until after dinner?

Maedhros whined and keened loudly, not moving his hands, though his hips ratcheted back and forth in desperation as Fingon abused his insides so deliciously. Fin, you are so good, so good, you feel--you are so good to me. So tall, and those shoes, and mine, as I am yours and-- "AH!" he cried, spending, every muscle clamping down, and he bent over almost double.

"Russ!" Fingon grunted, bending over and keeping himself pressed against his husband's back. Oh, _darling_! He rode the edge for a brief moment and then after a few more strokes he let go, releasing within Maedhros. He shook, eyes watering, torn between needing release and wishing that this could go on forever. "So good," he panted in his husband's ear. "You're so wonderful to me. Thank you. Love you so much." He tried to move as his breathing steadied quickly flopped back onto Maedhros with a giggle. "I--ah-- I don't know if I can move. I'm... um... a bit too shaky and still in these heels. Help?"

"Ahh--" Maedhros said, unsure if he could move, either. "I don't want you to go." He reached back with both hands and grabbed Fin's hips, holding their bodies together for a moment, until he had got his breath back again. "Should I carry you?" he asked eventually.

Fingon kissed Maedhros' back between his shoulders. "No-- I'll try to walk. But... could you hold onto me as we stand? If I stumble just... don't let me fall." He hugged Maedhros tight for a moment, relaxing over him. Then he sighed. "Dinner smells delicious, and we should probably get to the table. Ready?" He pressed up, attempting to stand at the same time as his husband, Maedhros' hands protective and comforting over his hips.

Maedhros straightened, holding Fingon close, though he winced as Fingon came free of him, and he limped, too. Still, he sat his husband gently in a chair, and went back for the food.

"Are you well?" Fingon's eyes tracked Maedhros as he moved back to the kitchen. "We should take a hot bath after dinner-- that should help with any soreness. I- I didn't mean to hurt you. Russandol?”

"You didn't hurt me," Maedhros insisted. "No more than I wanted you to, anyway," he added with a wink. I like it. The occasional twinge reminds me of what we did. He set out the salad first, and plates, and then returned with the potatoes and filet steaks. "What may I bring you to drink?"

"I'll have red wine if you're having some." Though that would mean Maedhros would have to go down into the wine cellar. "Otherwise, just some cold water, perhaps with a little lemon, please." He grinned and grabbed Maedhros' arm before he could walk away, pulling him down into a kiss. "I'm glad you liked it. I really do love you Russandol." Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for pleasing me and spoiling me and making me smile. Tyë melin.

"Thank you for the same," Maedhros purred, dropping to his knees and kissing Fingon languidly. Tyë melin. "I think I brought some wine home--let's try that!" His bags were closer and involved fewer stairs, and it was supposed to be a sweeter wine from the low country. He returned quickly with the bottle and glasses. Since his apron was already a mess, he removed it, folded it mess inwards, and laid it on the chair before he sat down.

Mmm. You look gorgeous, venno. He smiled, hooking his leg around Maedhros' as they settled. "Thank you. Everything looks lovely." He kissed Maedhros again and began with the salad, letting the wine aerate. The food was delicious, the cranberries sweet and tart and the table beautifully set. Fingon's eyes, however, were ever drawn to his husband. "Will you tell me a bit about your project-- if I'm allowed to know? And if you left early does that mean you'll be called back soon?"

"I was helping father with his crystallurgy, mostly," Maedhros said between mouthfuls (he was suddenly very hungry). "He's still got wild notions, but he'll manage them eventually. But I brought back the materials for my project, so we can work on it here. Unless you already had a gift idea for your new baby sister or brother."

"Oh! No-- I've still been brainstorming ideas. That sounds wonderful." Fingon grinned at him. "I'd love to craft a gift with you. Would you show me some of what you've been working on tomorrow?" He followed his husband's example, digging into his salad and quickly finishing it before moving on to the rest of dinner.

"Of course," Maedhros said. "I wanted it to be a surprise, I suppose, but I was carving a crib for the young child, and I was hammering the leavings of gemstones into the wood in patterns. That was what I wanted from my father's house, the chips of gems and crystals carved off a greater piece--and wood. After dinner we can unload the cart, if you should like to see."

"I would-- it sounds very beautiful." Fingon took a sip of the wine and grinned at him mischievously. "Though we may have to take care of you first-- you've been sitting, and you haven't had too much trouble. But if we start to walk around we may have to take care of you so that you don't start leaking." He ran a hand down his husband's side. "After all, you don't want to leave a mess all over our house. I suppose if we want to unload the cart before our bath we could just plug you up for a while."

Maedhros nearly choked at the suggestion, and felt his insides churn and his desire increase. "Ah, Fin!" he said, blushing and crossing his legs, though he nodded.

"Good. May I have a kiss?" Fingon leaned forward and Maedhros met him halfway, brushing their lips together. "Mmm. I think the wine tastes even better from your lips. It's very good, though. Who did you get this from?" He raised is glass, swirly the liquid and sniffing it before savoring another sip.

"From Uncle Arafinwë. I think it's quite nice. Not too sweet," Maedhros replied, made easy by the change of conversation. "I have another bottle to save."

"Mmm. We should get it cataloged and into the cellar after dinner." Fingon relaxed, Maedhros' contentment and ease flowing through him. "Are we saving dessert until after we've unloaded everything?"

"Ahh--" Maedhros said, thinking about having that toy in him while Fingon drizzled chocolate over his body and licked it up, and he coughed, desire spiking. "Yes," he managed to say without squeaking. "I think--what were you thinking?"

"That seems just about right," Fingon answered, sharing Maedhros' imagining. "Mmm. Molten chocolate all over you. And you lying flat on your back. I could take breaks from licking it up to play with the toy in you. I'd make you arch and writhe and make a mess of the chocolate before I went back to cleaning you." He watched Maedhros' breathing hitch and gave him a satisfied smile before eating a bit of steak. "But first-- I'd like to see the crib you're making and the jewels you've picked out. And while we're out perhaps we can even go for a short walk along the stream."

Maedhros squeaked, and nodded, now fidgeting helplessly, and uninterested in the remainder of his dinner, though he gulped at the wine against his dry mouth. "A-are you done?"

"Just about." Fingon reached forward and stole a bite of Maedhros' steak. "But you should finish your dinner too-- you need to keep up your strength, melindo." I want you to be able to keep up with me. To be able to roll me over and take me again this evening. Four more bites, darling. Please-- for me? He was slightly amused at the change in dynamics from when they were younger, with him encouraging Russ to eat rather than the other way around.

Unimpressed by the role-reversal, Maedhros huffed and bit into his food, cleaning his plate quickly. Then he folded his arms and eyed Fingon playfully defiant.

“Come along, my boy, off you go. I’ll clean up the dishes once I’m sure you won’t leak.” He smiled and stood, offering Maedhros his hand. “Let’s get you into our bedroom.” We’ll even find something reasonable for you to wear-- though I almost wish I could take you outside wearing nothing but the plug and your shoes.

Maedhros was flushing brightly, and though he liked the idea of walking nude with Fingon like that, wearing only the plug, he was glad Fingon wasn't serious. He led the way quickly (excitedly) to the bedroom, taking Fingon's hand and tugging him along. I like this, he told him shyly, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

Fingon grinned, slipping his arm around Maedhros’ shoulders (he could do that now, wearing heels) and squeezed him. “I love you so much. And I like doing things that please us both.” He laughed, and leaned his head on Maedhros’ shoulder. “I love having you excited-- that starts to excite me. And that excites you more which excites me even more. It’s a delicious and wonderful effect.” He shivered, willingly sharing his stirrings of desire with his husband. “Will you tell me what you feel right now? What you’re thinking?” Just what you can tell me. And if you can’t say all of it aloud that’s fine. He squeezed his husband’s shoulder affectionately as they made their way into the bedroom.

I feel--Maedhros began immediately--I feel small. Not just because you're in those shoes, but--when you--you take control of me like this, when I am yours, I get weak in the knees, and I feel hot and my spine prickles. The heat pools low in my--his hand went to his sex, rubbing his hardness.  "Please, Fin, make me yours? Want to belong to you. You could even be ungentle with me, if that would please you."

"Never want to harm you, but if you like being ungentle sometimes... I'd gladly do that with you. Love when you claim me. Love reminding you that you are mine." I'm so glad we have this-- all of this. "Do you remember our bonding night? You _took_ me. _Made_ me yours. You filled me with yourself-- fëa as well as hröa-- and I knew I would never be the same." He shivered, touching Maedhros' back. "May I have you again, before we stuff you and take care of the crafting materials and dishes? Please, darling?" Fingon's eyes were drawn to Maedhros' arousal and his free hand twitched, wanting his own hand there, wrapped around Maedhros and taking care of him.

Maedhros nodded, gasping dizzily. Yes, yes, fill me up with you and then plug me up so I never forget what it's like, so your seed never leaves me. He whimpered, begging with his eyes. "H-how would you like me?"

Fingon smiled at him. "I think we'll use the mirror again, arimeldanya. I want you standing in front of it, still holding yourself with one hand if you'd like. You can keep stroking yourself, but you'll wait for me while I get oil. And try to keep from leaking, alright?" He smiled and stepped in front of Maedhros, kissing him deeply. One hand snuck down to tease at his entrance. "You are a vision of ecstasy. Have you any idea what you do to me, standing here like this?" He walked across the room to their bed, hips swaying slightly as he focused on walking in a straight line in his heels, glancing backward at his husband every few steps.

"I have some idea, only because you do the same to me," Maedhros whispered after him, his gaze lingering before he turned back to the mirror. He kept his feet together and his buttocks clenched, though he knew this would make it hurt more later. He cupped himself, but did not stroke, and waited, trying to calm his fluttering heart.

Fingon walked up to him slowly, their eyes meeting in the mirror. "You are... exquisite, darling. Bright and perfect and mine." He smiled, setting the oil on the chair and slotting himself behind his husband, arousal rubbing against Maedhros' tightened cheeks. "I could watch you like this for hours, my lord husband. But I need you so... are you ready, darling? We'll have to try to do this part quickly, so that you don't get too sloppy."

Maedhros nodded, trying to relax. "Should I--do you want me to move--to bend over?"

Fingon lifted a hand to Maedhros’ shoulder to steady himself and raised a foot, nudging his husband’s legs apart. “I just need you to spread yourself a little. I don’t want you bent over-- I want you watching. If you have to lean over a little you can hold onto the mirror to steady yourself. But I don’t want your eyes closed or on the floor or off to the sides-- I want you to watch _us_. To see myself finding my pleasure within you, and to see yourself, glorious Maitimo, striving toward your own pleasure.” Is this alright? Can you do this for me? I’ll be watching too. I don’t think I’ll be able to take my eyes off of us. He carefully oiled his fingers and pulled back with a whine of frustration, hips pressing forward against his will before removed himself fully. Then he reached down with a carefully probing finger, finding Maedhros still slick and fairly loose.

Maedhros whined, gulped, and nodded. "I can--yes, yes, I will," he said, those his eyes flicked down, embarrassed, almost immediately, before he forced them up again. "I--I can't see you," he complained.

“I’m right here with you. Always.” Fingon laid his palm over Maedhros’ breast, quickly adding a second finger and then a third. He stepped forward as he removed them, recoating his hand and giving himself a cursory stroke. He slipped into Maedhros (slick, wet, open, perfect, Russ), moving his slick hand to his husband’s arousal. He gently nudged Maedhros’ fingers away. “I’m here,” he whispered, tucking his chin over Maedhros’ shoulder and leaning their heads together. “Love you.”

Maedhros nodded. "Here," he panted, agreeing. "Love you--ah! Fin!" he cried, as Fingon struck the spot that drove him wild. His feet shifted, and he gripped the edge of the mirror.

“That’s it. That’s my doll. So lovely.” He trailed his fingers from Maedhros’ breast down along the contours of his stomach. “Beautiful, darling. Are you watching us?” He kissed Maedhros’ neck when his husband nodded again and thrust forward roughly. “Will you do something for me, arimelda? Call me your princess. Call me your princess and your boy and beg me to take you harder, beg me for more. Can you do that?” Will you? Please? He shuddered behind Maedhros and circled his hips the next time he was fully inside his husband, grinding against him with a quiet moan.

A mad fantasy came then into Maedhros' head, but he couldn't push it away, and didn't want to, and he shared it with Fingon: in it, Fingon was a woman, and she was taking him by means of a phallus made of glass. "Beautiful princess," he blurted out. "Please will you--harder--" With his hair done up like that, and unable to see most of him, the fantasy could almost be true. "Harder, please! Please, my princess, my b-boy," he stammered.

“Russandol!” Fingon’s hips stuttered and he bit at Maedhros’ shoulder, almost finishing too soon. His legs felt week and he released Maedhros to wrap his arms around his husband’s middle, holding them together and holding himself up. “Russ,” he whimpered. Oh. I want to give you everything. Tonight-- tonight if we share a dream, I’ll give you that. Give you anything. Love being your princess, your boy,  your prince and husband. What you _do_ to me! “Can’t… can’t give you everything… can’t be what I’m not… but I’ll tie you up one day and put on a pretty dress and fuck your with our toy. I’ll kiss you and hold you and keep filling you with unyielding, never-softening glass. Will that do?”

Maedhros whined, mind afire with desire, but he shook his head, almost drawn out of the bliss by "You are already everything I want," he had to say, had to make perfectly clear. "But yes. As a--ahh--game, yes, please, Fin, may I come? I--I need--you feel so g-good--" he stuttered as Fin hit his insides again.

“You are everything I want,” Fingon whispered, hand dropping back to Maedhros’ arousal. “I enjoy our games, but… if you never wanted to play a single one again I would be happy just having you in my arms.” His hips sped up and he kissed the bruises he had left earlier on Maedhros’ neck. “Finish with me, darling. I’m so close-- and I want you to watch us as you spend. I want you to see how wonderful we are together, how perfect you are in ecstasy.” He held on for half a minute longer before stifling a shout against his husband’s shoulder. “Now! Finish for me. Russandol!” He tumbled over the edge, his husband’s name on his lips, and Maedhros’ form before his eyes.

Maedhros came along with Fingon, collapsing against the mirror and all but knocking it over. "FINDEKÁNO!" he cried, watching them, watching their eyes, watching Fingon mostly, and the spray of his seed splattering against the mirror. He groaned, nearly stumbling to the floor.

“Got you. I’ve got you.” He thought he had him. Fingon held onto Maedhros, standing carefully on his heels and holding them both upright as they stumbled a couple of steps. He rubbed Maedhros’ chest soothingly, kissing his shoulder. “Shhh. That was amazing. Impossibly wonderful. You shine so brightly, Russandol.” Fingon pulled out of him with a whine of protest and patted his husband’s rump. “Go to the bed and lie down on your stomach, and I’ll go find a toy to keep you nice and full.”

Dizzily, Maedhros obeyed, though nothing pained him more than not being able to hold him at that moment. Soon, he told himself, soon. He tried tightening himself, to make sure nothing spilled, the ache delicious in the after-high. He turned his head to watch Fingon retreat and return. "Can I massage your feet for you?" he begged.

“Oooh, that would be nice,” Fingon sighed. He returned carrying robes over one arm, which he lay across the foot of the bed before clambering up with the oil and their glass toy. “You haven’t spilled a drop, have you? So good, doll. You’re so good for me. Thank you, darling.” He spread Maedhros’ cheeks, checking him, and couldn’t resist leaning down for a lick. “Next time perhaps I’ll make it easy so that you don’t have to worry about spilling-- I’ll just lick every trace of myself out of you.” But for now he oiled the toy and eased it into his husband, eyeing it with a tinge of desire that ached because his body couldn’t act upon it. “There you go. Lovely, dearest prince. How do you feel?”

"Ahh--" Maedhros groaned at the suggestion, and lay there weakly, trying to get his body accustomed to the steady intrusion. "Good. V-very good. Hold me?" he asked, reaching for Fingon but afraid to move, not wanting to upset the plug or make it make him want things.

“Any time you wish,” Fingon promised. He slid up the bed and worked himself half under Maedhros, holding him close and petting his hair. “There. And when you feel better we’ll get these _things_ off my feet and you can help get rid of any lingering soreness. And I’ll go back to being your slightly shorter husband.” He kissed Maedhros again, rubbing at his back soothingly and opening his side of their bond, silently asking for reassurance that Maedhros felt well and was pleased and sated and, most importantly, happy.

I'm so happy I could remain here forever. You take such perfect care of me, Maedhros assured him, liking the tingling warmth of being under Fingon's command, being his servant, even--even playing at it. How can I make you feel half as good as I feel? "I like my slightly shorter husband. And I especially want you to have happy feet." He smiled, kissed his shoulder, and sat up, squirming awkwardly, to inspect the shoes. They tied halfway up his ankles, so Maedhros unbound them and slipped them off Fin's feet, rubbing them gently with a bit of the oil on his hands.

Fingon stretched luxuriously, relaxing on the bed with a groan of appreciation. “That-that’s a perfect start. And I feel wonderful-- I love having you as mine just as I love being yours. And as I love just being with you-- just knowing that I am married to the most wonderful Elda in Arda. Knowing that my husband rushed home early to be with me… there can be no greater feeling.” Fingon’s eyes watered slightly and he sat up, pulling Maedhros into a gentle kiss. How could I be any happier than I am in this moment? I love you Nelyafinwë Maitimo Russandol. And you make me the happiest, and the most fortunate, Child of Iluvatar to ever walk on Arda.

Maedhros blushed and dropped his eyes, knowing that for all his words he himself was the lucky one. He sat on his knees, trying not to touch the plug, as he continued rubbing Fingon's feet, and occasionally kissing them. "Better?" he asked after some time.

“Mhmm.” Fingon sighed, relaxing with his head upon the pillow. “I feel like I’m floating on a cloud-- everything is soft and perfect, and your hands and lips are warm and touch me in all the right ways. Thank you so much, beloved.” He smiled and sat up again, pulling Maedhros into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered against his husband’s hair. “You spoil me terribly. Thank you for being so wonderful to me.” He sighed, squeezing his husband close. “I suppose we should clean up the kitchen and finish moving your crafting materials. Are your ready to get up and move about?”

"Ah, as ready as I think I'll ever be," he said, fidgeting. He smiled, kissing Fingon, and slid off the bed. "Oh. The mirror. I should--ahh--clean that up," he said.

“If you take care of that I’ll clean up the kitchen and we can meet up and go outside together,” Fingon suggested. “But first--” he slid of the bed and held up a robe. “May I help you into something?” It was clothing, but it was the sheer robe Maedhros had gotten prior to their honeymoon, and it would let him see everything as they walked outside.

Maedhros shivered, nodding, and slipped into the garment with Fingon's help. "May I help you on with yours?" he asked in turn.

“Please.” Fingon nodded, offering his robe to Maedhros. He rose onto his toes for a moment before rocking back onto his heels. “There is something nice about being flat on my feet again.” He turned as Maedhros helped him into the robe and smiled up at his husband, wrapping his arms around Maedhros’ neck. “Tyë melin, vennonya. Thank you.”

Maedhros returned the kiss, drawing strength and love from Fingon. "Thank you," he purred. "The wonder is not so much that I came back early, it was that I was ever away." The plug wasn't so bad now, if he walked carefully: he wasn't worried about the pain, for there was none by now, but every time he moved he risked jarring something inside him and beginning something he wasn't ready to finish yet. Bending over to clean the mirror was interesting, to say the least.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Fingon rushed through their dishes, cleaning the table and sink. He threw Maedhros' apron in a bucket to soak and began making his way back to their bedroom. He felt light on his feet, carefree and happy and ready to see what magnificent things his husband had been creating while he was away. "Almost ready?"

Maedhros nodded, straightening with some difficulty. His stance was somewhat wider than usual, but he held still and managed a smile. "Ready when you are--only--" Well, he hadn't thought about shoes, and dreaded trying to bend to put them on. Already the plug was making itself known in deliciously torturous ways.

"Barefoot?" Fingon suggested before shaking his head. "Here. Let me." He slipped into a pair of sandals and grabbed another before walking over to Maedhros and kneeling before him. "Right foot?" He guided his husband's hand to his shoulder to steady himself and slid the shoe onto Maedhros' foot, fastening it securely.

Of course Fingon heard his fears, and Maedhros blushed and bit his lip as he lifted first one foot, and then the other--though that didn't entirely help, of course, as every movement sent an electric shock to his toes. "Thanks," he said. "C-can I help you with yours?"

"Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this?" Maedhros looked hopeful though, and their bond was warm and tingly, and Fingon stood, quickly walking backwards to the bed and hopping onto it, raising his foot high in the air. "Here. Please help me, Prince Russandol." He glanced up at Maedhros' bashfully. "Pretty please?"

Beaming, though he moved carefully toward him, and knelt straight-backed. "You look--um--" he gulped. "You look beautiful," he said, slipping the shoe on and buckling it. "And I like having you inside me--" he blurted out, "well, sort of. I mean, it, hurts, but not in a bad way. And it's warm and...squelchy, and," he blushed and looked down. Fingon had wanted him to talk before, to explain what he felt, and he wanted to oblige. "I feel very--um--desperate. For you."

"I... I like knowing that you enjoy this, that you want this so much that you're desperate." He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Maedhros' brow. "I promise I'll take care of you, my beloved husband. We'll walk down to the crafting hall and you can direct me while I put away your materials. Then we'll walk by the stream and when we find a nice, soft patch of grass or moss I will kneel before you and worship your hröa. You're being so perfectly wonderful, and I want to... to honor your sacrifice," he said with a grin, knowing that it wasn't much of a sacrifice, but wanting an excuse to please his husband. "Can you tell me more?" he asked, offering Maedhros his other foot. "How else do you feel? What are you fantasizing about?"

Maedhros squirmed. "Ah--about what you said, maybe? That you--if you--maybe tied me up--if we--um--or just--" he laughed and shook his head. "Of course we haven't had dessert yet." He pressed himself to his feet and pulled Fingon up and into a kiss.

“Any of that. Or all of it. Or just some.” Fingon relaxed in his husband’s embrace, sighing as Maedhros held him close. He peeked up at Maedhros, eyes shining. “I wish to do anything you desire. And if you wish you can help me back into my dress and I’ll tie you up and cover you in chocolate and fuck you with my glass toy while you beg your princess for more.” He was blushing by the end of the statement though he meant every word. Anything for you, my prince. I’ll enjoy everything with you.

Maedhros groaned and nodded. Anything. Anything. "Before, when you--when I said that I was fantasizing things--I want you to know that I love you and I love everything about you and I love everything that we do." He kissed Fingon. "What I want most from tonight is to give myself to you, however you will have me, if you will have me."

“Venno.” Fingon reached up, carefully cupping Maedhros’ face with both hands. “How could I not? I will always have you, always need you, always want you.” And I swore during our bonding to always be there for you, remember? No matter what. His brushed their lips together softly. “I liked your fantasies, Russ. And I always want to hear more of them. I love hearing them and I love making them come true.” Give yourself over to me tonight and I shall make love to you until you can’t move. You can fall asleep in my arms and when we wake up, as ever, I will be yours.

Maedhros smiled, kissing Fingon's neck and positively trembling--unashamed, letting Fingon feel what he did to him. "Oh, yes, please," he whispered, and kissed him again. "Shall we go unload the cart?"

“Mhmm.” Fingon nuzzled against Maedhros, loath to let him go. “Sorry. Love being in your arms. I missed you.” He sighed and stepped back a foot. “May I hold your hand while we walk?”

"You may hold more than that," Maedhros said, entwining their arms and hands as they walked. The stairs had him sweating, and his sex straining already against his clothes, but he managed them, and the chill wind outside helped him to maintain his composure, though. He had pulled the cart into the wide doors of the forge but everything was as yet unloaded. He tugged the cover off. "You see, not much yet. But the wood is good, and--" he showed Fingon the sack of jewels, heavy and the size of a bag of flour, "and these. I mean to organize them by color before beginning."

“Perhaps that can be our project tomorrow,” Fingon suggested. He moved quickly to help lift the materials so that Maedhros wouldn’t have to. “Can we just lay them out on your work station for now?”

Maedhros nodded, blushing at his own weakness, and clenched his fist and put it by his side. It took him a moment to realize that they had switched subjects. "Oh. I hope so. Ah, you don't think the wood is too dark? I w-wanted something neutral, but is it too dreary for a baby's room?"

“It’s elegant. It will be beautiful. And if they use a light blue cloth for the bedding the wood will accent it perfectly.” He leaned his head against Maedhros’ shoulder as they walked. “Mother and father are going to love it, as will the little one.”

Maedhros winced as he walked, sweat breaking out across his chest at every step, as warmth flooded through his backside to his every limb, filling his sex until it was heavy and hot. "Er. Yes. I hope so. You'll help me, then?"

“Of course. I’d be honored.” Fingon looked at Maedhros with a grin. “Remember in our valley when you had me stuffed and going for a walk like this? Only you had me in front of you, and with my hands tied behind my back. I’m afraid I can’t bring myself to let you go, so you get to walk next to me instead. I hope you don’t mind?”

Maedhros flushed to remember, half in embarrassment as his cruelty, and half in embarrassment at how such a thing would wreck him. "Ah, yes, I remember," he said. "I don't think you enjoyed it as much as I am enjoying this, but then you are kinder to me." He kissed Fingon's hair.

"I resent the idea that you were anything other than wonderful to me. I loved all of that trip." He shivered. "You can be deliciously cruel, though. I'll try to be so, if it would please thee. Would you have me take us on a long walk along the stream?" He squeezed Maedhros' hand. "I could ask you to tell me how it felt with each step- to describe the fullness and pressure of your plug, and how the fabric of your robes feels as it brushes against your skin." If I felt truly teasing I might even start to daydream about later on. I could fill your head with thoughts of you tied to the bed and lit by candlelight, chocolate dripping across your skin and a bowl of fresh strawberries and raspberries next to you. Would that be too cruel, my prince?

Maedhros squirmed again. "I--oh!" he said, turning very red and feeling hot and needy. "You--ahh--you don't have to do that--" All of that would please me. What would please you? he insisted, pushing across their bond his desire, his need, to make Fingon happy, to please him and be praised for it. That's all I want. "I love thee."

"You're here. You're with me and wanting me and desperate to please me- what more could I want?" Fingon kissed him chastely, trying to use their bond to wrap Maedhros in love and affection. "Chocolate does sound nice, though," he added in a teasing whisper. "Mmm. Spread out, naked Russ with chocolate and berries-- oh! And with a little whipped cream on top!"

Maedhros laughed, an escape of nervousness and too much desirelovediscomfortneed, his blush deepening to his chest. "That could get...messy," he pointed out, trying to slow their pace, because every time he moved the toy brushed up against that _spot_ that felt swollen and sensitive just to torment him.

Fingon laughed and slapped Maedhros' rear playfully. "So neat and tidy, arimelda. Well, if you let me feast on you and drive you made with desire, spend on you and in you and taste your release, I promise I'll clean us up afterwards." He leaned closer to Maedhros. And if you wish to make me... even more unbelievably happy than I've been since you came home (though I'm not sure such a thing is possible), afterwards when we're clean and comfortable, relaxing before bed, you might let me curl up against you or lay my head in your lap while you read to me. We could pick out another of Irissë's stories or even a collection of essays. And if we were feeling awake enough to be creative we might write a tale or two of our own.

"Oh, yes," Maedhros said, once he recovered from the undignified yelp he gave at Fingon's smack. Yes I would like that. To spoil you as you spoiled me, he said with a grin. Impatient, he began nudging them around a circle that would take them back home.

"Eager?" Fingon grinned at him, well aware of what Maedhros was doing, and he lowered his arm, reaching behind Maedhros to dig eager fingers into his rear, kneading the flesh there and straying every few minutes to play with the base of the plug. "Can't wait to join with you again. I'm so glad you're here!" He slipped away for a moment to walk in front of Maedhros, hips swaying as they had when he was trying to carefully walk in his heels. "And I'm very glad you enjoyed your surprise- however unintentional it may have been." He beamed and turned to embrace his husband. "I love you."

Maedhros groaned and bucked when Fingon touched him, and whined when he looked at him swaying. "You--you are--Can we go home now?" He whined.

"I don't know if I want to yet," Fingon admitted. He swept Maedhros with a heated look. "You... you are so desperate. And so perfectly in control." Rising on his toes Fingon kissed his husband again, grinding against him through the sheer, barely there material of their robes. "You take my breath away. Such beauty, and with your need so tightly bound within you." He leaned against Maedhros for a long minute. "We should get home, though. You should be cared for and loved and worshiped. And then you should be carried into our bath and cared for again, washed and oiled and pampered." Groaning, Fingon pulled away and offered Maedhros his arm. "Shall we?"

Almost holding his breath for excitement, Maedhros nodded, taking the offered arm and hurried home, not caring a whit how the toy tormented him. "Oh please," he begged. How do I deserve you? He wondered silently.

Just by being you. "You're my everything," Fingon whispered. He leaned against Maedhros, desperate for more contact. "Love you. Love you so much," he whimpered and tugged Maedhros under a tree with a drooping curtain of branches. "I... stop. Stop right there. I want you inside me, but we aren't going to join until we're back in our room with chocolate and berries and candlelight." We'll both suffer for it. We'll both wait and yearn, wanting and aching until we're so desperate we can hardly breath. They were already antsy, shifting their weight as though desperate to keep going. "So I want what I _can_ have right now." He wet his lips, glancing up at Maedhros to see his husband's reaction to where this was going. "I want you get on your knees for me and lick me open. And then you're going to stand up and lift up your robe. You'll bend over, presenting yourself to me, and pull out your plug and fill me up with it. Then we'll finishing walking home."

Maedhros gaped, already far too aroused by even the suggestion to think or say anything. Groaning, he immediately dropped to his knees, knowing he was going to like this part best, and roughly turned Fingon around and tugged his trousers down so he had the access he desired, pressing his tongue to Fingon's entrance.

Fingon leaned against the tree, pressing back against Maedhros with a needy whine. "Feels so good, Russ. Please, more. Please. Are you staying still, darling? You should-- ah!-- you should move a little. Rock your hips back and forth. Enjoy your toy while you can, because soon you'll be desperate and empty and waiting for me." He bit his lip, words failing him as his husband's tongue pressed inside. RussandolgoodperfectthankyouyespleasemoreRuss.

Maedhros was pretty certain he was disappointed at the idea of the loss of it, even as it tormented him. Even without moving it was pressing against him where it mattered, like perhaps it had swollen. What if I leak? he asked, flicking his tongue inside, meeting little resistance.

"Then I'll have to clean you up," Fingon managed, finishing the statement with a whimper. "But after we've made dessert. Until then you can just... wander around with my seed trailing down your thighs. A-are you going to make a mess of yourself before we even get inside?"

Maedhros was whimpering too, now, and he thrust his tongue deep inside Fingon, darting in and out quickly in an effort to drive him as crazy as he was being driven.

It worked. Fingon pressed back against him, head lowered as he tried to keep his legs steady. "So good, venno. So perfect. Now-- stretch me a little. When you're ready. Then-- then it's time to fill me up and go home." This time I'll be waddling and stumbling next to you, plugged and desperate and-- oh! Need you, Russandol! I want all of inside of me. Want your hröa in me and your fëa surrounding me and merging with mine. Can't-- can't believe how long we lived without this. He gasped, fingers clenching at the tree's bark. "Please, venno."

"Want to fuck you," Maedhros whined, but obliged by stretching him only with his tongue. So beautiful. So mine. As I am yours. He pressed his tongue in as far as it would go, holding it there to stretch him, and eventually adding fingers.

"Russandol," Fingon begged, drawing out the word. He whined, hips moving against his husband's tongue and fingers. "Please, please, please. Am I... is it almost enough? Are you ready?" He glanced back at his husband, beautiful and stunning in his robes. I'm ready to go home, Russ. What you in our bed.

Ready, Maedhros said reluctantly, reluctant to stop, reluctant, even, maybe, to share the toy, but he dutifully stood and, when Fingon had recovered, he turned about, spread his legs, and bent over, holding his ankles and trying to ignore his throbbing need.

Fingon turned to watch him, breath hitching at the sight. He reached out and brushed his finger lightly across Maedhros skin. "Beautiful, he whispered," pulling up the robe and laying it over Maedhros' back. "And such a pretty pink, verging on red." He paused, silently telling Maedhros to center himself, and slapped him, groaning as they both felt the hit and the jolting shift of the plug. "Oh! So perfect darling. And there's a little red. You're so good for me, my prince. So wonderful and controlled. Steady, beloved." He two more hits and the red blush had spread beautifully across Maedhros' skin." With moan, Fingon's fingers traced the edge of the plug and began to work it free. Please stand once it's out, my dearest Maitimo.

Maedhros yelped at the first strike, for it was surprising, but he bit his lip for the other two, concentrating only on his filling cock and how he might finish at any moment. He winced and held his breath as the toy came free, and stood immediately, the rush of blood making him dizzy. As my prince commands.

“It’s so warm,” Fingon whispered wonderingly. He wandered the last few yards to the river and rinsed off the glass. When he returned, he presented it to Maedhros. “Will you put it inside for me, vennonya?” He turned back to the tree, leaning against it and arching his back, pushing his rear out towards his husband.

"Ohh," Maedhros moaned. It was cold when Fingon put it in his hand, and he spit on it to slick the way--but Fingon was already plenty stretched and plenty moistened, and he slipped it in easily. It was a frustration, less because it wasn't in him, but because it blocked him from where he most wanted to be right now. He pressed against it petulantly, and slipping up close to Fingon, bit into the meaty part of his shoulder like a hungry wolf.

Fingon arched against him, desperate to have Maedhros wrapped around him. He could feel his husband’s arousal, and Maedhros’ hips nudged at the plug, shifting it inside of him. He groaned, shaking where he stood. “My doll you are _exquisite_. Please… home. Need you.” He straightened and turned carefully, whimpering as the plug shifted. “Walk with me?”

Maedhros nodded, taking Fingon's hand and tugging him along behind him at a brisk pace. Now that he was free of the plug and he could already feel wetness between his legs, he was all the more eager to return. "Unless you want me to carry you?" he sassed, breathless.

He was fairly certain Maedhros was joking, but Fingon shook his head nonetheless. “That would take the fun out of this. If you’re too worried about your robes you may remove them and carry them over your arm. We’ll be throwing everything in to soak once we get back, though, so I don’t think it will make a difference.” Though can you imagine if someone walked up and saw us- me plugged and stumbling along, you open and used and leaking all over?

Maedhros himself almost stumbled at that, though he didn't bother removing his clothes because that would only take more time. The second they were in the front door, though, Maedhros was out of his clothes in an instant, and pressing Fingon against the door. "Need you," he growled. "Don't think I can wait." He rubbed his aching sex between Fingon's legs and kissed him roughly.

“You can,” Fingon insisted. “You will.” He was shivering beneath Maedhros, body aching and arching to get closer to him. He submitted for the duration of a long kiss before gripping Maedhros and spinning them using movements refined by decades of wrestling with Celegorm. He pinned his husband to the door, grinding against him with a quiet whine. “W-we said. We had plans. I would have gotten on my knees for you by the river. But y-you wanted chocolate and bed and ties.” Fingon pulled away, hand momentarily cupping himself as he shook where he stood, desperate for more. “Strip. Then go and melt us some chocolate. I’ll put our clothes in a basin to soak. And we’ll go to our room and you can get on your hands and knees behind me and pull out our toy with your teeth.”

Maedhros finished undressing, cowed by Fingon's show of force (cowed and very, very turned on), and all but fled to the kitchen where he prepared a chocolate fondue, sweet and milky just the way Fingon liked it, and soft enough to stay liquid and smooth even as it cooled. Glancing at the door every so often, as if hoping that Fingon would come check on him, Maedhros prepared the dish quickly, and washed some berries as well, since Fingon had mentioned them, and whipped some cream, and put it all on a tray which he carried down to the bedroom.

The room was lit with candles when Maedhros entered. Their dirty clothes had been dealt with and Fingon knelt in the center of the bed, eyes closed and hips thrusting slowly against open air. He peeked at his husband as he entered. "That smells delicious, Russandol. Please set it down and come help me?"

Trembling, Maedhros began crawling onto the bed before remembering to set the tray down on the bench at the foot of the bed and, as an afterthought, he pulled it around to one side. Then he returned to bed, kneeling behind Fingon and all but worshipping him with his gaze. "L-like this?" He asked, breath hot on Fingon's backside.

Fingon dropped to all fours and looked behind himself, whining quietly. “Just like that. Please-- the toy. Take it out?”

Maedhros began by kissing and licking across Fingon's backside, biting his cheeks, tongue delving between his legs, and licking up his spine as far as he could reach. When he could hardly stand the teasing anymore he bit down on the base of the toy and gave a few experimental tugs, teasing just enough before sliding it out.

"R-Russ!" Fingon trembled and whimpered, shaking himself and the bed below him. When the toy was fully removed he twisted around to kiss his husband deeply, squeezing him close before returning to his position on the bed. "Can't wait," he admitted breathlessly. "Need you inside of me, Russandol. Need you pressed against me, working for our pleasure, striving to bring us over the edge. Please, darling- fill me up. Cover me and surround me and let me know only you."

Maedhros couldn't hope for more, and immediately he mounted Fingon, kissing the back of his neck and pulling on his hair, and sliding home in one swift movement that had them both seeing stars (perhaps seeing the same stars).

Fingon whimpered, hands scrambling at the bedding as he rocked with his husband's movement. "Russ!" Good. Amazing. More, love, please? Need you so close you'll always be with me. Want to forget where I end and you start. Please, venno. Fill me and take me. Sate us. He dared a quick glance back at his husband, further roused by the sight. "We... we'll have the fondue in a little while. But you've been so good- right now I want you to bring us both over the edge. You can have what you need, whatever you need, beloved." Mmm. M'close.  Just like that. Love you, Russandol.

Maedhros pulled Fingon's head back by his hair and sucked on his neck. "Darling," he growled, rutting into him like an animal in heat, "love you. Need you." He wrapped his arms around Fingon, bringing him crashing to the bed as he worked himself to a frenzy and then to a finish, finally spending while he screamed Fingon's name.

“Russandol,” Fingon whispered brokenly. He scrambled against the bed, doing his best to push up against his husband. Everything was bright and colorful, and his body sang with desire each time Maedhros entered him. He finished with a shout, slumping against the bed and relaxing under his husband’s weight. Mmm. That was perfect, beloved. Thank you so much. Love you so much. I hope you enjoyed that half as much as I. S-stay for a little while? Just like this. Please?

Maedhros sighed, breathing heavily but unmoving, crushing Fingon into the mattress and not remotely sorry. "Love you," he mumbled. "Feel--you feel so good." He was in such a position he didn't have to pull out, and he didn't. "Love you. Thank you," he gasped, until his sweat began cooling on him.

Fingon shook his head, tightening around Maedhros with a pleased sound. “You’ve been so wonderful for me. You were so controlled, so good. I want to give you everything you could ever dream of wanting.” He tilted his head, nuzzling against Maedhros’ cheek. “I’m going to tie you to the bed in a few minutes, and I’ll cover you with chocolate and berries and make you rise for me again. How does that sound, my prince?”

Maedhros nodded, shivering. "Sh-should I get cleaned up first?" he asked, and kissed Fingon's neck, squeezing him with arms and legs.

“A-aah! That feels nice.” Fingon grinned against the pillow, sending a wave of affection across their bond. “We’d only have to clean up again after. I suppose it’s up to you- I’ll do anything you ask of me right now.” He blinked, tightening around Maedhros’ briefly. “I love you so much, Russandol. And I’m so happy right now. Thank you, my light.”

Maedhros shook his head and lay still. "Thank _you_. I--" a nervous giggle, pitched high, escaped him: "You're going to be tying me up. I rather think you should do the asking."

“I’m _asking_ you tell me what you want,” Fingon teased with a giggle. He settled under his husband. “But… if you insist, I would have you just like this. And soon-- before you’ve fully softened I’d have you rising in an agony of ecstasy. Are you ready, dearest?” Mmm, but I hate to think of you slipping out of me. This is… so nice right now. It feels good. Feels right to have you within me and to have your arms around me.

"I love to hold you like this," Maedhros said, and--he hissed. "When you t-tighten like that, I--" his body was already feeling the need to react. He slid out and stood up on shaking knees and elbows, kissing Fingon's spine.

Fingon whimpered at the loss, trembling as Maedhros’ lips brushed against him. “Sit up in a moment please, dearest.” He rolled over slowly as Maedhros lifted higher, grinning and wrapping his arms around his husband. “Love you,” he breathed against Maedhros’ ear, rolling them on the bed. He smiled down at his husband. “This is nice, too. May I tie you up now?” Say you want to stop at any time and we’ll stop and I’ll untie you. I promise.

"I promise," Maedhros said, licking his lips, and "Please," he added, possibly too hastily. He helped Fingon sit up and kissed him tenderly. How could I ever want to stop with you? he wondered.

 

"Always want to be yours," Fingon whispered, leaning down to brush their lips together. "I adore you, Russandol." He grinned and sat up, reaching into the bedside table in search of ties before carefully, tenderly, securing his husband's hands and feet. "There. Pull a little on them- is anything uncomfortable, and can you still feel your fingers and toes?"

Maedhros obliged, tugging on the straps, and he wiggled his fingers obediently. "Feels good--all right," he whispered. "Will you--kiss me?"

"For the rest of forever," Fingon whispered. He leaned down, carefully brushing his lips against his husband's. You're so strong, Russandol. But right now, with you spread open and tied down, relaxed for me and looking at me like that... you are infinitely precious, and I want to be so _careful_ with you. I want to barely touch you, to skim my fingers over your skin... to drizzle you with chocolate and trace along its path with the tip of my tongue. He sighed and smiled against Maedhros' neck, humming against him. "Still feeling alright?"

"Mm," Maedhros agreed, back arching and hips lifting lazily. Hid body wanted to react but couldn't--or didn't dare. "You are--so gentle," he sighed. "I have no fear trusting myself to you."

Fingon closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he ran trembling hands along his husband's sides. You honor me. You are... you are indescribably perfect, beloved. And you do me the greatest honor with your love and your trust. He smiled, kissing Maedhros again and shifting to trail kissing down his body. "Are you a little hungry, beloved? Shall I make you a strawberry with chocolate?" Or shall I just start covering you with sweets. Sweet treats on my sweeter Russandol. And hours and hours to play.

Maedhros squirmed, already half-ticklish and half-aroused. "Y-you should start," he said. He didn't usually feel cold, but he shivered now, watching Fingon move carefully and precisely over him (strong, powerful protector, caregiver, one for whose pleasure he existed). And tell me if you want to stop. If you grow uncomfortable or even bored. I want to please you.

I fear those should be my words, my light, but I do promise that I will. And you have promised to do the same. "I want you to be happy. And I want you to be the most pleasured, lax, unable to move Elda in Aman." He smiled at Maedhros and patted his hip before shifting off of him. "I'm going to get the chocolate, and I'll be right back. Do you think you can stay very still for me while we do this?" He hesitated, then shook his head and moved to get the chocolate. He returned, placing the fondue pot on the night table and straddling his husband. "Never mind-- test the bonds for a minute. Then I want you to feel free to move around however much you want. I'd like you to moan if you want, shout if you want... purr in pleasure if you are so inclined. Do you think you can be open for me and show me yourself without hesitating or hiding? I would have all of you, vennonya."

Maedhros tested the bonds, tugging arms and legs. He could move quite a bit more than he expected--but not enough, of course, just enough to (later) prove frustrating. You have all of me, he answered. And if I do not show you, you have my permission to look. "I will do my best not to hold back a single reaction. Not from you." He eyed the fondue with eager apprehension.

"Here, darling." Fingon noted his husband's glances at the fondue and he dipped a finger into the hot chocolate, painting Maedhros' lips before slipping it inside. "What do you think? A bit hot? Too cold? Absolutely perfect?" Remember, I get to put it anywhere we want.

Maedhros moaned in approval, tongue flicking out but not quite swiping it from his lips. The flavor was good, but he wanted Fingon's finger more than anything. "Perfect," he gasped, when Fingon's finger was finally out of his reach.

"Just like my husband," Fingon responded, a tingle of desire running down his spine. "Very good. Now... to make a spectacular dessert..." He grinned and picked up a strawberry by its stem, dipping it in chocolate and beginning to paint Maedhros with it. He drew swirling lines along his husband's shoulders a torso, moving down his chest to his stomach before sliding back lower on Maedhros' thighs. He winked, dipping his fingers into the chocolate before carefully painting Maedhros' hips and desire with it. Fingon relished each movement his husband made, his free hand sliding up and down his side reassuringly. Legs next, my dearest. Oh- perhaps we should have bathed first. I'm sorry-- I would have covered your toes in chocolate, too.

A giggle bubbled up in Maedhros' chest, and it erupted in an undignified snort. "Don't. My feet are far too ticklish," he whispered, hips shifting, and lifting his head to lick at a smudge of chocolate on Fingon's elbow.

Fingon shivered and giggled at him. “No feet. Though… since you’re all tied up for me…” He painted Maedhros’ legs with chocolate and licked his fingers clean before reaching out and tracing a finger up the bottom of his husband’s right foot. Are you going to wriggle for me, beloved?

"Ah!" Maedhros squeaked, hips bucking and ankle straining. "Wait wait wait stop!" he cried, kicking futilely. "Nonononoplease!"

“No?” Fingon carefully crawled back up him, catching Maedhros’ lips in a slow kiss and removing every trace of chocolate. “Oh that’s _perfect_ , darling.” He reached out, slowly stroking his husband’s arousal and smearing the chocolate there. Fingon blinked at Maedhros and leaned in again, kissing his cheek. “But I think we’ll want a drink to go with this-- some water, perhaps. Will you wait here for me?”

"Nnghhh," Maedhros squirmed, bucking up into his hand. "Nuhh, Fin, please--" somehow, impossibly, he was hard again (easily, with Fingon's tongue everywhere on him) and Fingon couldn't just leave him like this! "Findekánoooo," he whined.

“I can’t?” Fingon’s voice was innocent as he looked down at Maedhros. “Well… I suppose that’s too delicious to leave.” He stood, then bent down and licked delicately at the chocolate smears coating Maedhros’ arousal. Perfect. I do want a glass of water, though. Wait for me, please? He squeezed Russ’ knee gently, meeting his eyes as he made his request.

Maedhros shifted and whined, but nodded, and when Fingon was gone he tugged and scrambled at the knots, but they wouldn't come loose.

Fingon walked carefully down the hall, pausing to lean against the wall as Maedhros’ desire began to overwhelm him. When he returned it was with two glasses of water, which he set beside the fondue. “Were you good for me, darling?” He eyed the rumpled sheets under his husband at the red marks at his wrists. Should I be… ah… punishing you? In good fun, of course.

Maedhros blinked up at Fingon, his desire showing in his red arousal and red cheeks. He nodded in a jerk of his head. "S-sorry, I--I wanted to follow you."

“Darling. You missed me?” He leaned down, resting a palm flat on Maedhros’ chest. “I was with you, right here. In your heart and in your fëa- I’ll always be with you.” He leaned down for another kiss, but pulled back just before their lips connected. “What would be a good punishment for you, my dearest?”

Maedhros whined and huffed, shooting him a wounded look. "Kiss first," he demanded, frowning deeply. "Then you could--then--whatever--mmm--uh--make me wait? But not for a kiss." He squirmed again, straining against the ties.

“A kiss, then, for my prince.” Fingon leaned down, hands bracing himself on either side of Maedhros’ head. He rubbed their noses together before pursing his lips. At the last moment, he leaned up, kissing Maedhros’ forehead chastely for a long moment before he retreated. “There. A kiss for my perfect husband.” And a punishment as well, I imagine. He smiled and reached for the fondue, coating another strawberry before drawing another pattern on his husband’s arousal. He met Maedhros’ eyes and ate the strawberry, smiling. “I think I’m ready for my dessert. I suppose I should start with your legs and work my way up.”

Maedhros whined, straining to reach him, but was held down by the ropes, and moaned as Fingon teased him so mercilessly. He huffed as he fell back, and hissed and whined but did not cry out or bed. He clenched his hands into fists. "W-whatever would please you," he whispered, tilting his head up, feeling meek and helpless and entirely at Fingon's mercy.

“My Russandol.” Feeling awed and almost overcome by a wave of tenderness, Fingon reached up to cup his husband’s (chocolate coated) cheek. “You are so beautiful. And I want very much to please us.” He kissed Maedhros’ calf worshipfully, lingering as he traced up the line of chocolate. You are beautiful and perfect and so open, lying here like this. I want to treat you as though you were made of glass- as carefully as if you were a baby bird, all delicate bones and fragile skin. I want to worship every inch of you until he can no longer strain against your bonds- until you’re trembling against the sheets waiting in a sea of desire for me to grant you release. I want to hold your hands and sink over your arousal, riding you and loving you and I want to dip a strawberry in chocolate and place it in your mouth, biting into it with a kiss and sharing it with you.

Maedhros whined, high-pitched, arching his back. Findekáno, you are my solid rock, my anchor. You--you are too cruel and too kind to me. Please please please need you-- Fingon's lips sucking on the inside of his thigh were terribly distracting.

Fingon stopped and nuzzled at Maedhros’ cleaned thigh. “You feel so good,” he whispered. “I always need you, always want you… Tyë melin tenn’ ambar metta.” He smiled up along the length of Maedhros’ body, hugging him lightly before he began to nibble at Maedhros’ hips and, skirting around his arousal, up the length of his husband’s torso. I could just eat you up, he though, reaching for more berries to add to the chocolate trails.

You'd be doing me a favor. Maedhros gasped. "Tenn' ambar mett--Fin!" he thrashed weakly, nearly coming undone, hips jerking against thin air.

“Shh-- darling-- _baby_ ,” Fingon whispered, kissing up Maedhros’ chest until he could press his lips to his husband’s chin. “Love you,” he whispered. “I adore you. How-- how much do you need this-- need me?” His hand skirted down to stray dangerously close to where Maedhros most wanted him. Do you think you’ve been punished enough, love? I want to spoil you now.

Maedhros whined, nodding desperately. "I'll be good for you--so good! Please let me be good for you!" He squirmed and bucked.

“Say my name,” Fingon whispered against his neck, licking a spiral of chocolate that went from his husband’s neck to his cheek and jaw. Tell me you love me and need me and want me. Let me know how good I’m making you feel. Let me know that our bond is as vital to you as it has become to me. “I love you, Nelyafinwë,” he whispered, eyes meeting his husband’s. “Have I mentioned today that you are my world?” He leaned forward with a smile, claiming Maedhros’ lips for a long kiss. His left hand moved up, sliding behind Maedhros’ head and cradling it as their lips and tongues danced.

"Findekáno!" Maedhros blurted out past the kiss, and said it again when they parted. "Fin, Fin, I need you. Need--can't live without y-you--pleeeease will you let me? I need you to keep my heart beating and my breath flowing and I need I can't have pleasure without you please please please Findekáno!"

Fingon shook, quickly placing a strawberry against Maedhros’ mouth to stop such perfect words. “Yes-- I promise. But with me. I-- just let me… just hold that for me. Don’t drop it and don’t bit into it.” He scrambled down Maedhros’ body, swallowing his arousal and cleaning, sucking and relishing the way Maedhros’ hips jumped against him. So beautiful, Maitimo. I burn for you.

Maedhros could have cried he needed so bad, and he whined against the strawberry in his mouth, the flavor a delicious torment. Fin please--I'm gonna! Gonna-- His hips jerked wildly, though he was slipping against the sheets and had no leverage.

Releasing him quickly, Fingon moved up Maedhros’ body and took his lips in a long kiss. He took Maedhros in hand, and began stroking the two of them together as he bit into the strawberry, chocolate and juice filling his mouth along with Maedhros’ taste. Perfect, he thought, hips thrusting forward desperately. So perfect for me. Come on, dearest. Finish with me. You can look through our bond. I’m close now- so close- and I want to finish together with you. Can you do that for me, my bright one?

Maedhros already saw more of Fingon's fëa than he felt of his own, a warm blue embracing and protecting him, and he keened and bucked up and spilled inside Fingon with a loud cry, all muscles clenched and every nerve afire (the helplessness only adding to his arousal) until he was spent, and after Fingon was, too, and he lay still and weak, panting for air.

Head lolling forward, Fingon stroked them through their completion. He gasped and shuddered against his husband, pressing close and catching his lips desperately. “You are amazing,” he whispered quietly. Heart slowing, he darted forward and licked away trace of chocolate that had survived their previous activities, high on Maedhros’ cheek. “And delicious. Though I fear you haven’t had your share of dessert. I think we should fix that in a minute-- if you’re willing I’ll sit with you and feed you chocolate covered berries. And then we can see about a hot bath.”

Maedhros gasped, curling against Fingon, still gulping air, eyes closed and skin tingling. His muscles twitched faintly as he lay unstraining and spread, helpless yet trusting. He nodded, unable to speak. Please.

Anything for you, my light. Fingon carefully untied his feet, and then one arm, retying it on a lower bar of the headboard so that it could slide horizontally and Maedhros could sit up. He repeated the process with his other arm and piled pillows behind his husband before gently urging him into a half sitting position. Then he curled up beside him, grabbing the fondue pot and covering a strawberry in a generous portion of chocolate. "Here-- for you." Your lips are going to be so sweet and chocolaty, darling. I'm afraid I'll become even more addicted to them.

Maedhros giggled, letting Fingon unite and retie him without struggle, and was happy to do so. He grinned tiredly, and opened his mouth for the treats. "It's very good," he said after two. "Would you kiss me?" He sat up for that.

"Of course. No dessert could be sweeter than your lips on mine." Fingon grinned at the ridiculous sounding sentiment and leaned in, sliding his arm around Maedhros and curling against him. Do you feel alright? Your arms aren't starting to bother you, are they?

Maedhros shook his head, pressing his nose against Fingon's. No. It's almost--comfortable--if that isn't too weird? He grinned. "I'd very much like to embrace you, though. And--" he gulped as Fingon stuffed another strawberry into his mouth, "and to stop you from feeding me nonstop!" he laughed.

Fingon relaxed, pleased that Maedhros was still enjoying things at that he was not in any significant discomfort. “Oh- I’m sorry. Am I offending you?” He sat back slightly and ate the next strawberry himself, moaning quietly and licking his lips clean of chocolate. “It’s so _good_ , Russ,” he informed his husband, holding him closer. “Delicious. Thank you for dessert-- for all of dessert.” He smiled at Maedhros, lips scant inches away.

Maedhros leaned forward sharply, catching Fingon's lips in a kiss and stealing a smudge of chocolate from his especially pouty bottom lip, and he smiled shyly as he retreated. "Thank _you_ ," he said.

“I’m going to get up and turn on the bath.” With a sigh, Fingon squeezed his husband and moved to rise. “I’ll be right back. And after we’re clean and comfortable… if you are not opposed perhaps we could tie you up for a little longer.” This is good for you? I want to lavish attention on you while you are tied up and able to focus on nothing but your own pleasure.

Maedhros bit his lip and nodded. "If it would please you?" he asked in a small voice. He shifted awkwardly, feeling open and exposed, and pulled his knee up to cover himself.

Oh doll, you’re gorgeous. Gorgeous and vulnerable and… you look like you’re mine. Fingon shook his head, disappearing into the bathroom briefly to turn on hot water and the crystal lights. With a grin he opened a jar of rose petals, part of a collection he’d gathered with Irissë the day before for drying, though he had stolen several handfuls away. He scattered them into the water, adding rose scented oil before he slipped back into the bedroom.

Maedhros could smell the rose scent from his place in the bedroom, and he breathed deeply and sighed, and then shifted hastily. He wanted to be a pleasing sight when Fingon returned, and he tucked his knees beneath him and arranged himself--well, as best he could. He wished he could have fixed his hair, but the tousled look would have to do, and he blinked up at Fingon demurely as he returned.

Fingon stopped short, entering the room, and he stared at Maedhros longingly. A wave of desire shot across their bond as he walked forward on weak legs and crawled onto their bed. “Doll. Darling. You are… how am I supposed to get us to the bath if you’re looking like that?” He shook his head, leaning down to kiss Maedhros’ stomach, hands running up his husband’s sides. Amazing, lovely Maitimo. You steal my very breath. He reached forward, gently pulling the ties on Maedhros’ wrists free.

Maedhros leaned forward to kiss Fingon again, and when his hands were free they went around him, holding him, squeezing flesh and falling forward on top of him to pin him to the bed. After they broke for air, "I missed being on top of you," Maedhros growled, heat kindling between them. "Should we go to our bath?"

Nodding weakly, Fingon tugged his husband closer. Love having you on top of me. Love being under you, vennonya. I’m yours, always. And I feel it. He reached up, brushing his fingers against Maedhros’ cheek. “We should go to our bath. But I should carry you. Will you let me up that I might take you in my arms and bear you to the water to be washed and cared for?”

Maedhros blushed. "I--I can walk," he insisted, but he enjoyed being so cared for, and sat up. "Only if you're sure," he said, and probed their bond to make certain. It was easy for him to feel an imposition even at the slightest favor, and with Fingon spoiling him like this, he was a mess of irrational concerns.

"Of course I'm sure." Fingon smiled lazily, rolling off the bed and scooping Maedhros into his ams. "Don't worry so much," he added in a whisper. "I love spoiling you." They moved into the washroom, light with the blue and red glow of crystals in the water, and he slipped into the bath with his husband still cradled in his arms. I _want_ to spoil you. I love you, Russ.

Maedhros tucked his head under Fingon's chin and closed his eyes, feeling safe and tired, and comfortable being so. Thanks. Love you.

Love you most. Fingon smiled and kissed Maedhros' brow, walking them deeper into the water until rose petals floated just under his husband's chin. "I'll set you down in a few minutes and work on your hair and your arms- I want to loosen up your muscles and have you limp and lax and curled around me. Is the water good for now or should I raise the temperature a little more?"

Maedhros curled against Fingon, breathing in the delicious scent. "It's wonderful. Plenty warm." He shivered from desire and kissed Fingon's neck, slowly opening his eyes. "Love you."

"Always and forever." Fingon grinned. "The soaps are already set out. Is it alright if I dunk you to work on your hair first? That way it can start to dry while we finish washing off."

Maedhros nodded, grinning faintly still. "Darling, I can wash my hair," he said.

"I want to wash it." Fingon grinned down at him. "I want to wash your hair and your skin from your head to your toes. and then I want to set you on the edge of the bath and rub rose oil into your skin. Then when we're done I'll wrap you in a towel like you do for me and carry you back to bed all wrapped up and soft and warm. But for now, dunking." He dropped, covering them both with water for several seconds before emerging with a splash. "Good?"

Maedhros held his breath, and gasped in as they broke the surface. "Oh yes," he purred, brushing hair out of his eyes. "Very good. You are so good to me," he said, even before Fingon began touching him. He hummed pleasantly.

“I enjoy this,” Fingon whispered. Privately he thought that he was not half so good at caring for Maedhros as his husband was for him. He stood Maedhros in the deeper water and poured shampoo into his hands, humming as he worked it into a lather in Maedhros’ hair. Will you tell me more about your fantasies, dearest? I’d no idea the shoes and dress and hair would… ah… excite you so. 

Maedhros blushed and squirmed. "I, ah," he said. "Only you looked very beautiful. And the female form excites my sensibilities, I suppose, but no more than in the ordinary way. You're always so impossibly beautiful," he whispered. "My fantasy is reality: coming home to a beautiful you and making love to you without regard for anything else."

Fingon blushed, cupping his hands and pouring water over Maedhros' hair. "You are too good to me," he whispered. "Here- dunk for a moment?" Then he began working conditioner into Maedhros' air, slowly moving them toward the waterfall to finish rinsing out Maedhros' hair. "You know that's not what I meant, though. You being here and wanting me is... incredibly beautiful and all I could want." He kissed Meadhros' neck. "But I meant what other fun fantasies do you have for you and me and that dress, or something similar." He smiled against his husband's skin, guiding him to a spot just in front of the waterfall.

Maedhros purred. "Oh, I--" he said, easy and relaxed. "I think I'd like to dance with you where everyone could see. And I would kiss you. And people who didn't know us would think you were really a nis because you are so beautiful and I would treat you so like a princess. And when I got you alone I would treat you so wickedly you would think you were my paramour."

"Russ!" Shivering and squeaking, Fingon pushed his husband back under the water, wrapping himself around Maedhros as he carded tender fingers through his hair. I am _yours_ he thought plaintively. Your husband, your love, your friend, your wife and your paramour if that is what you wish. But really I am just... yours. He shook his head, kissing Maedhros under the waterfall, body tingling with his husband's words and already aching to join with him again.

Maedhros struggled, kicking to the surface, and kissed Fingon fiercely. "Yes, mine, as I am yours."

“Always and forever,” Fingon agreed. He leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth to deepen it. I want to be your everything. I want to make all your wishes come true. Though you surprise me- wanting to dance in public with your… your lady Findekáno. He pulled back to finish rinsing Maedhros’ hair and stepped back, bringing them out of the spray. “Feeling a little better?” Maedhros was flushed and warm, already smelling of roses and mostly rinsed free of the dirt and sweat of traveling. “Here-- we have a rose scented soap-- did you know? I’ll finish washing the rest of you with that.” Hmm, if I’m your paramour, will this make you my flower? He shook his head, giggling at the thought.

Maedhros snorted, but good-naturedly. "You are my everything," he reminded Fingon, "as I hope I am yours." He kissed Fingon on the cheek. I surprise even myself sometimes.

That’s alright. I adore all of you. You can be comfortable and safe with me and I will never judge you. Fingon paused, tilting his head and gazing up at Maedhros. “Of course you are my everything. You are my light, my air, my hopes and dreams, my world… and I’ve never been happier than I am with you.” He shifted them to the edge of the bath, pinning his husband’s hair up before beginning to wash his Maedhros’ neck and shoulders.

"Mm, you should--wait--I mean I'm not sure I can--again," he moaned into Fingon's shoulder where he was weakly resting his head.

“You will,” Fingon murmured, leaning in to kiss his husband’s brow. “For me, you will. But once we’re done here, washed and dried and back in bed. Here- can you sit on the edge while I wash the rest of you? That should make it a little easier.” He caressed his husband’s head and his back after rinsing away the lather. Gently, he lifted Maedhros and situated him with his legs dangling in the water.

Maedhros wanted to pull his knees together, but he was too weak. "I'm too tired," he protested, with a petulant grin.

“Oh? And you won’t let me slip inside you to be warm and comfortable and pleasured?” Fingon slid his hands up Maedhros’ thighs, pressing gently against them with a plaintive look. “You would deny me your hröa, my love?”

Maedhros whined but relaxed, allowing Fingon to move him as he would. "No," he whispered. "No, I could never deny you anything, my love." He smiled and shivered faintly.

Fingon leaned in and kissed him on the nose. “Then I will join with you when we’re back in bed.” He pulled away, lifting one of Maedhros’ legs from the water and beginning to scrub it, spending a little extra time kneading his husband’s feet. “Love you. And I love to love you. Please kiss me, and give me your other leg.”

Lifting his leg Maedhros groaned, a mist of bliss covering his vision and enveloping him as in a warm embrace. He leaned forward to kiss Fingon and his eyes slipped closed, and when Fingon started in on his foot he kicked idly, enjoying the touch so much he hardly had control over his body.

"My perfect doll," Fingon whispered. He smiled and, finishing, slid Maedhros back into the warm water. "Do you want to soak a little longer, or shall I wrap you up to dry?"

"I am enjoying this," he whispered, curling around Fingon. "But I would be ruled by you." He was lax and limp where he rested on Fingon's lap.

“My prince, you are wonderful.” Fingon smiled at him, rocking them gently in the water. “I’m rather enjoying pampering you. Let me scoop you up, please.” He adjusted Maedhros in his arms, carrying Maedhros out of the tub and wrapping him a large, soft towel. He set Maedhros on the edge of the bath before sliding back into the water for a perfunctory wash.

Maedhros settled, pleasantly warm and comfortable as he watched Fingon clean himself. He felt small, dwarfed by the large size of the towel. "My light, my Ainur," he whispered, heedless of blasphemy. He reached for Fingon as he emerged from the water, enveloping him inside his towel.

Fingon shook his head and shivered against Maedhros, at a loss for words. "I love thee," he whispered finally, warmly ensconced in his husband's arms. "I love thee so." I almost want to stop playing and just have you hold me. I am so glad that you're home, venno. I was enjoying spending time with Turko and Irissë, but... the moment you walked in it was though I realized I had been walking through the darkness, like an Elda seeing the light of the Trees and recognizing then that their world but a moment before had been dark. He sighed, burrowing closer, and tangling his fingers in Maedhros' locks. "Shall I do your hair in here, love? I can pull out clothing for us afterwards."

Darling, Maedhros said, and kissed Fingon's brow. "We don't have to play. I would love to just hold you all night." He huffed into Fingon's hair. "You can d what you like with me and my hair."

"We'll play a little and then I would love for you to hold me." Fingon shrugged and guided Maedhros to sit as he left the warmth of his embrace and moved to untangle his hair. He worked a mild oil into it, feet dancing slightly as he dripped on the floor though the room itself was warm and humid. Fingon plaited his husband's hair simply yet elegantly before tying it off. "Will you help to put my hair up again in a fancy Lady Findekáno style? I'd like something that will make your heart race the moment your gaze falls upon it, my beloved."

I would like that very much. Maedhros smiled up at him, and reached up toward him with shaking hands. "Ai, Fin," he whispered. "Here, fetch me the hair pins and sit on my lap," he ordered, and began pinning Fingon's hair so that the curls hung like willow branches around his face and white neck.

"Thank you. Is it strange that I find your hands in my hair most... enjoyable? Arousing, in a way, but also very comforting. I could fall asleep with your fingers running through my hair and I know I would sleep deeply and wake well rested." He shrugged, staring forward and attempting to keep his head still for Maedhros.

"Then we shall sleep tonight with my hands in your hair," Maedhros said, kissing Fingon's ear. "For I love to touch your hair more than I love the feel of anything else under my hand. I would take it out of these pins and brush it for you tirelessly until you told me to stop."

"Before we sleep," Fingon promised solemnly. He stood once Maedhros and finished setting his hair and offered his husband both hands, pulling him to his feet. "Come with me, please. I'd like to find clothing for you. And then perhaps you can help me." He leaned close to Maedhros, lips brushing against his ear. "I need your help to get back into a corset and a gown. I have to tie you to the bed, remember, and fill you again and again with a plug, kissing you and pretending to be your princess, your beautiful wife, as I try my best to bring you pleasure."

Maedhros squeaked and, unbidden, a flush and a grin sprang to his face. He looked at his feet, but nodded. "Y-yes, of course," he said, hastily going to where they had cast the corset on the floor and picking it gingerly up, fumbling with the clasps.

Fingon disappeared into the closet, coming back with a dark red shirt and brown trousers. "You help me and I'll help you," he offered as he set them on the bed with a pair of knee high, polished boots with a slight heel that would let Maedhros stand even taller. He turned and held his arms out, letting Maedhros begin to fasten him into the garment.

"Y-you want me _dressed_ for this?" Maedhros asked, slipping the corset around Fingon's waist and pulling it tight. "You know this is generally easier without clothes," he added with a grin.

"Come now, husband- you must arrive home again, and without other people around to interfere. I shall be waiting on you, with a bed prepared and flowers strewn about. I'll have bright jewels on and be-- oh!-- be waiting to love you." Fingon gasped as the corset was fastened, a hand going to his chest as he breathed shallowly for a moment, body already flushed with desire. "That's perfect, darling. Thank you. Now, the dress... and... um... ah... well, I don't even _know_ what our siblings were thinking, but... I suppose they were taking their game of dress up to far, so..." he flushed and handed a bag filled with silken undergarments to Maedhros, turning away. "Pick out something for me, please, before we put on the rest of the outfit."

" _Oh_ ," Maedhros said, eyes glinting in sudden understanding. "Oh, yes. Lovely." He drew out some undergarments that he was sure hid nothing from view, sheer and very tiny, and thrust them at Fingon blushing while he hastily began to scramble into his own clothes.

Fingon was flushing as well, pulling them up before retrieving the dress and stepping into it, waiting for Maedhros to help lace it up. "Now... I'll finish putting on jewelry if you want to wander outside briefly. I'll set up the room, knowing you're meant to arrive tonight, and then you, my lord prince, can come find your princess waiting for you." Is this... is this good? Do you like this? If you don't- say but a word, or even think it, and we can do anything else, anything at all for you my husband, my prince, my everything.

Maedhros took Fingon's hands urgently. "I love this. I love you. This is--I want this. I need this. Thank you." He dipped down to kiss him, but stopped short. "No," he whispered. "I need to want it. I haven't seen my princess for many days, after all!" With sudden energy, he gathered a coat and wandered out of the room carrying his boots.

Smiling broadly, Fingon ran about the room. he lit candles and dimmed crystals, turning down the bed and scattering rose petals across its sheets before stumbling into his heels and lacing them up. He put on red gems designed to catch the light and burn as though small flames resided in them, the colors of his prince's house flickering across his skin. With a thought he set out a scented massage oil beside the pot of unscented oil on their night table, and ate a last strawberry before arranging himself in a chair before the fire, book in hand, waiting for his prince to arrive home.

Maedhros lingered for a time outside after his boots were on, but not nearly as long as he meant to, before throwing wide the door, trembling with excitement. "My princess, I'm home!"

Quickly, borderline ungently, Fingon shut the book and set it aside, rising on shaking legs as he imagined Maedhros returning in such a way and after a long separation. “Prince Russandol! Beloved!” He launched himself across the room, skirt and scarves fluttering behind him as he quickly covered the distance between them and wrapped himself around his husband. He gripped him tightly, clinging to him, and nuzzling against Maedhros’ rose scented neck. “My lord, you’ve been gone so long! I’ve missed you with all my heart.” He shifted towards Maedhros as his husband’s hands squeezed him on the verge of too hard, and he tilted his head up to offer Maedhros a sweet and tender kiss.

"Oh, Fin!" Maedhros cried, faking nothing as he swept Fingon into his arms desperately, and kissed him like a thirsty man kissed water. "Oh, my beautiful princess, queen of my heart. You look ravishing."

Fingon shook his head, blushing. "You-- you outshine the Trees and stars my love." He smiled at Maedhros, hanging from him dazedly. "I've been waiting for you-- getting ready. Are you hungry from your travels? Sore? May I help you out of your clothes?"

"Hungry only for you," Maedhros responded automatically. "Y-yes please," he added, removing his coat. "And I desire you naked, too, though your dress is beautiful. Is it new?"

"You noticed!" Fingon smiled demurely and stepped back to spin for Maedhros. "Do you like it? I wore it just for you." Already trying to unclothe me? He let out a teasing mental sigh. Stretching onto his toes to kiss Maedhros he then sank to his knees, working to undo his husband's boots and slide then off one at a time. He kissed Maedhros' ankles tenderly, pausing repeatedly to smile up at him while he worked.

"I should be doing this for you, my love," Maedhros said, settling into a chair and stopping Fingon's hands. "Here, sit on my lap." He pulled Fingon sideways onto his lap and slid his hand up his skirt. "May I help you off with your shoes?"

"Please," Fingon answered, giggling as Maedhros easily moved him about. He grabbed Maedhros' hand before it slid too high. "Careful, or you'll ruin the illusion," he whispered, pressing his husband's hand against his thigh but not allowing it to move up further. "You're so strong, darling. You make me feel so... so slight and tiny next to you."

"Well, so you are," Maedhros said, untying his shoe and letting it drop to the ground, "the fairest in all Aman." What illusion is there to ruin? Nothing could be hotter than my handsome Findekáno done up like a beautiful maiden. He kissed Fingon and nudged his hand further up his thigh.

Ruuuss! Fingon let out a mental while, reminding Maedhros that his husband had imagined Fingon as his fair princess, but he did not prevent his prince from moving his hand as he wished. "You're being difficult," he said with a smile, tilting his head and pressing a kiss to the corner of Maedhros' mouth. But I would give you anything you wish- anything that is in my power is already yours for the taking. "This is what you want now?" He reached up, slipping an arm around Maedhros' neck, closing his eyes, and offering a kiss.

"Well maybe I ought to be chastened for being so difficult," Maedhros said with a grin, stopping his hand short and kissing Fingon. "Darling," he whispered. "I want you. I want you like this. So much."

"My prince-- you have me. I am yours." Fingon smiled, kissing Maedhros and stroking his braid thoughtfully. "Would you have me do such a thing? Perhaps I should. In that case... no touching." He removed his husband's hand and danced off his lap, gesturing to the center of the bed. "Go ahead, lie down and make sure you're comfortable. I think we'll have to tie you up again so you'll relax and let me play. Is that alright with you, my prince?”

Insides churning and loins already tingling, Maedhros nodded, mouth going slightly dry. "Darling, yes," he purred. I would like that very much. He stood, lifting Fingon, and kissing him before striding to the bed with Fingon still in his arms. He sat, stood Fingon up, and laid back, arms and legs neatly spread. "Like this? Or did you want my trousers and everything off first?"

"Hmm, fair point. I suppose we should get you out of everything as well." He moved to the edge of the bed, urging Maedhros to lift his hips, and helped to remove his trousers before climbing onto the bed and straddling his husband's waist. "Here- sit up, please. I'll help you with your shirt. How are you feeling, darling? Ready for more?"

"The better for having you to look at and touch," Maedhros said, complying as Fingon undressed him. "Oh, how I've missed you, love!" He kissed Fingon. "I'm ready for anything," he whispered.

“Good. Then I shall do my best to satisfy you.” Fingon tossed Maedhros’ clothes aside and settled himself over his husband, adjusting how his dress lay across the bed and over his husband’s skin. He took Maedhros’ hand in his own and brought it up to slowly kiss his palm and his wrist. Tilting his head, Fingon watched Maedhros fondly. “I’d like to tie you up next, beloved. May I do so?”

Maedhros nodded. "Yes. Yes, I would like that, I think, very much, my princess." I long to be yours. He stretched out meekly on the bed, melting with every kiss.

“Thank you,” Fingon whispered, ghosting kisses across his husband’s skin. He secured both his husband’s arms, but left his legs free, and scooted to his side. “I love you so. And I- oh! Russ!” Fingon let out a scandalized noise as his hand, sliding across Maedhros’ skin, brushed against his desire. “Really, darling? Already? Whatever shall I do with you?”

Maedhros blushed like he had been caught out naked by a group of young girls, and shifted under Fingon's gaze. "Mm," he said. "A-already, yes. I always need you. Please?"

“How do you get through the day if you’re _always_ like this?” Fingon wrapped a hand around Maedhros’ arousal tentatively, stroking it as though it were flesh that was still strange to him. “So soft,” he whispered. “And warm.” He leaned across Maedhros, fabric draping over his husband, to grab the oil and coating his hand before continuing to stroke Maedhros. “You’re beautiful, beloved.”

"Ahh-hhaahh," Maedhros gasped, arching off the bed, feet scrambling for purchase. "Yes, darling, that's good. Harder, please? Just a bit tighter." He bit his lip, looking up at Fingon through long eyelashes.

“Better?” Fingon watched Maedhros, slowly applying more pressure against him. “But… I want more than this. Want to fill you, beloved, to stuff you the way you can- ah- stuff me. I want to slip inside you.” After a handful of strokes he shifted his hand back, slipping a finger inside his husband. “I’m going to find something to fill up with, to make you squirm and sweat and _need_.”

Maedhros whimpered this time, grabbing the ties and straining against them, even as his hips canted up for more. "Y-yes, please," he said. "Whatever you want." I want that, please, please. And when it gets too much to bear for you, will you fuck me? Fuck my mouth or anything, please. His eyes misted with need, and his cheeks were bright pink.

“Oh _darling_! I love you. I need you.” Fingon shifted, trying to avoid letting his growing arousal brush against Maedhros. And later. He shivered, pressing his forehead to his husband’s shoulder. Once you’ve finished. Once I’ve wrung you dry. But right now I want to be your princess, your lady love. But it will be too much for me to bear… soon… you drive me mad with desire, beloved. He carefully added another finger, nuzzling against Maedhros and sneaking his free hand up to tug at his husband’s plait.

Maedhros whined, open-mouthed, and though his back bowed the rest of him went limp--well, most of the rest of him. "Ai, Fin! Finno, my love, please, please, mm-more. You feel--touch--hair--good--" he grunted, a desperate sound.

“Anything for you,” Fingon whispered. “I love you dearly. Your hair, now?” He gave Maedhros a concerned look, stilling his fingers as he focused on Maedhros’ hair. When his husband made a plaintive sound he shifted, returning to his task of opening Maedhros slowly. “So beautiful, dearest. And the sounds you make! You are incredible.” He reached across Maedhros again, locating their toy in the nightstand drawer and laying it on Maedhros’ stomach to warm as he continued his teases and caresses.

Maedhros watched the toy rise and fall with his breaths, the vision mesmerizing. His legs kicked absently, like a dog being petted, and every time he tried to plant his hands or feet for leverage they slipped out from under him. Sweat gave his skin a sheen, and his sex lay red against his belly, begging with words he had forgotten how to speak.

"Shh-- I've got you darling," Fingon murmured, peppering kisses across his husband's skin. A little more oil and he was grabbing the toy off Maedhros, trailing it down his desire before gently pressing against his entrance, teasing more than providing any relief. "If you'd beg me to fill me, darling, I shall. Is that what you'd like? Or shall I put it down to take you in hand again?"

Maedhros groaned and arched. "No, no, no. Please. Please fill me, please--and then--and then r-ride me--for your pleasure. Please?" He wriggled closer, trying to get the toy inside him, trying to rub against the bulge beneath Fingon's dress.

Gasping, Fingon bit his lip and slipped the plug an inch into his husband. “There-- good?” He shook his head with a huff of laughter. What are you doing to me? Surely I shouldn’t be the one entirely breathless with desire in this moment!” He twisted the plug, pressing it deeper as he tugged at the end of Maedhros’ plait, twisting the end of his husband’s hair about his fingers.

Maedhros cried out, hips bucking helplessly. "Oh! Oh, Fin, yes, more, please! Please please please more I'll do anything!" He strained against the bonds, feet kicking, though he could feel himself tiring already.

“Hush, my prince. All you need do is enjoy. I have you-- I have you.” Fingon leaned against Maedhros’ side, peppering his face with kisses and moving the toy in long, controlled strokes. “There-- is that better? Can you tell me what you’re feeling my darling?”

Maedhros relaxed, though he panted for air. "I--f-feel--good. Need. Needing. You. Love you. So beautiful. So warm." He bucked suddenly. "Please. Please! Fin touch me, fuck me, please!"

“Yes!” Fingon let go of the plug, clinging to Maedhros for a moment. “Yes I- I need you, vennonya. I need you my prince. Need to have you, to join with you.” He shifted, straddling Maedhros, and sank down with a wince, still fully dressed but for his shoes, with his panties pulled out of the way. His mouth opened and closed silently as he fell forward, catching himself just above his husband, and tilting his head to bring their lips together. Russandol!

Findekáno! He bucked gently, barely moving, barely able to, and he whimpered as he was both penetrated and penetrating. Oh Fin, Fin, this is bliss. Please don't stop, don't stop. He shifted again, trying to press into Fingon. His vision was white and everything was hot skin sliding and the flow of Fingon's robes.

No-never. Never stopping. Yours, darling. Tenn’ ambar-metta. And beyond that. All yours. Always. “Russ! Oh! There, Russ, _please_!” Fingon’s back arched as he continued to ride his husband, the fabric of his dress shifting and sliding against them. “Please, darling. Want you to spend in me. I need you in me-- and then I’ll take you, fill you for real. I’ll remind you that I’m your husband, your Findekáno, and that you are mine as I am yours-- lovers, friends, adventurers, husbands.”

Maedhros shuddered and renewed his thrusts, arms taut, legs trembling, mouth open for breath and possibly screaming (Oh yes please please want that want you thank you please please Findekáno) as he finished, quicker than he thought possible after their night already, and moved throughout until he couldn't feel anything below his waist. "Oh, Fin," he panted.

"That's it," Fingon groaned, dropping to lie across Maedhros for a minute, trying to catch his breath and holding his husband desperately. "That's it, my darling. Thank you my perfect one. Need you." Arms shaking, he carefully lifted himself off of Maedhros and shifted to lie between his willingly spread legs. Lifting the hem of his dress to lie across Maedhros' stomach, Fingon removed the toy and slid home. He let out a whimper, trembling as he stilled within his husband and blinked up at him. "Vennonya," he whispered.

Maedhros, too weak to move, still somehow managed to curl his toes, and to pull his knees up, and hiss and lift his head (his eyes were still cenched shut) and cry out and pull against the bonds again. "Ai, Fin!" he cried, a weedy, thin sound. "Ah, good, good, feels--please--good--" he whined, tossing his head. "Oh, fuck!"

“I’ve got you, darling. It’s alright- you can let go and just feel. Russ! So warm and smooth. Can barely think…” Fingon whimpered and increased his pace, loving their joining and the game but somewhat hating the cloth that separated them. “Are you- are you going to spend again for me?” He gasped the query out before leaning forward to nibble on Maedhros’ lower lip, teasing the flesh until it turned a darker red and grew swollen.

Maedhros whined, trying to pull away even as his body ached for more. "Nn--nuh--can't," he protested, though he could feel himself, somehow, impossibly, rising again. "Oh, fuck," he squeaked as Fingon struck that place inside him that had him seeing stars, and he closed his eyes but they were still there, and that spot had swollen inside him, or else Fingon's sex had, and he was hitting it with every single thrust. This was insane, he couldn't--but he was. "Findekáno!" he cried, needy and desperate again.

“Darling,” Fingon sighed, catching his husband’s mouth in another kiss. “I love you. I adore you. You’re so good, Russandol. I want to fill you up and hold you and lay against your chest while our hearts beat in unison and we slip into dreams. Want to look into your eyes as I fall asleep and open my eyes and have you be the first thing I see when I wake.” Fingon increased his speed, moving against his husband and thrusting shallowly. “Going to make you spend again, Russ. Want you shaking and panting and unable to move.” Need this. Need you. Thank you, my prince. “I love you so much!”

Maedhros tried to hold out, for some reason he couldn't quite figure out. This was unsafe, maybe, or impossible, probably, and maybe it would hurt (it did hurt, a little), but pleasure was overtaking him anyway, washing over him, drowning him and he could barely keep his head above water. "Fin! Findekáno, I--help!" So close, need you to touch me, oh Valar please, Finno, need--together-- "Ahh!" he cried, and bucked weakly, the last of his strength giving out as he exploded, a weak spurt compared to before, but it was satisfying and exhausting and then everything around him was a warm pillow and he was safe and still and oh, had he actually blacked out?

Fingon wrapped a hand around Maedhros at his request and urged him on, following his husband over the edge. “Russ,” he moaned, eyelids fluttering as Maedhros trembled beneath him, hröa struggling to release him before he went still. “Russ,” he whispered. He was too tired to move and instead settled on Maedhros’ chest, fingers lazily brushing a few escaping strands of hair from his face.

Maedhros gasped and panted desperately, and started--more of a twitch, really--when he came to himself. "F-Findekáno," he rasped, turning his face toward him, arms twitching in their bonds. "Fin, want to hold you," he begged. I'm done if you're done. Thank you.

“Yes. Please. I need you in my arms. Need your arms around me.” Fingon reached for the bonds, gently undoing them and brought Maedhros’ hands down, inspecting his wrists for damage before kissing them. “Thank you. And… if I may request one more thing first… undress me? Please? I love this, but… I desire your skin against mine, your warmth, your gentle touches, the scent of your skin. Please, my husband?”

Maedhros complied, fumbling at the ties and clasps to undress Fingon. They were sticky in places, both of them, but Maedhros didn't care, and he pulled Fingon down on top of him, naked entirely, and set to work removing the hairpins and flinging them on the floor. "Want to--sleep--hands in--with my hands in your hair."

“Mmmhmm.” Fingon nuzzled close to Maedhros as his husband tugged at his hair. I love thee, dearest. Thank you. This-- this is perfect. Want to spend forever in your arms.

Thank you. Love you. My stars, my light. Maedhros closed his eyes, twining his fingers around Fingon's hair. "Darling. Stay." Thank you. I enjoyed being wrecked by you. He giggled, Fingon bouncing on his chest.

“Released more than wrecked, I should hope.” Fingon looked up, resting his chin on Maedhros’ chest. “I love thee, Russandol. More than anything else… thank you for coming home. It was a wonderful surprise!” He nodded slightly, and, with a yawn, returned to snuggling against his husband. “’M tired, now. Want to sleep safe in your arms. Protect me?”

"From?" Maedhros said, sleepy and silly. "I'm the only one nearby who wants to ravage you." He kissed Fingon's forehead and, after a few attempts, rolled them, so that they lay side by side, Fingon's head on his arm and their legs tangled together. "Oh," he groaned, "can you reach a blanket? Or are you warm enough?"

Fingon stretched, wiggling his fingers until he managed to snag a sheet and drag it up to cover them. “Perhaps just a light covering? And keep me safe… hmm…” He considered, eventually smiling at Maedhros with dancing eyes. “You’re in charge of protecting me from loneliness and cold. And you can protect me from shadows, like you did when I was very young and grandfather had told us stories before bed about the great journey across the dark lands.” He squirmed closer to Russ and leaned up for a brief moment, dragging the heavier blanket up to their waists. “Wilt thou protect me, light of my fëa?”

"Verily, I will," Maedhros spoke, "thou art mine to hold in my arms, protect from loneliness, and to love for ever. I love thee, Findekáno." He kissed over one eye, and was snoring almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and, if you feel like it, commenting! 
> 
> Next up is a future tale set in the Russ and Finno Verse, though we already know we'll be writing a second "Verse canon" version of it once we get that far in the series. The first chapter will be posted tonight and is titled Golden Threads and New Beginnings.


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